Scottish Air
by DemonessK
Summary: A Regency P&P story with a twist. Darcy and Elizabeth meet in Scotland when they are younger. He, unencumbered with guardianship and estate responsibilities and she, before years of meddling and matchmaking have taken their toll. Note that birth dates are played with a bit in this story but most relative ages stay reasonably close to the original :)
1. Prologue

_May 1807_

Fitzwilliam Darcy, now officially university-educated, was unsure of what to do with his life. His cousin and fellow graduate, Richard Fitzwilliam, was bound for the army; an officer's commission had been purchased for the Earl's second son. Even Darcy's occasional friend, George Wickham, had a career in the church waiting for him upon his own impending matriculation,, a year into the future. Young Darcy knew that some of his classmates were already masters of their own estates but he had no desire to join their ranks, he was grateful for his father's continued health. Some former classmates, graduates of the past year, seemed to have already fallen into the idle lives of heirs, spending their allowances as they waited for their fathers to die; another pastime he had no interest in pursuing.

One thing Darcy did desire was knowledge. He wished for nothing more than to broaden his view of the world through travel. Unfortunately the opportunity arose at an inconvenient time. The English gentry was being warned against visiting the continent due to hostilities abroad. Such things had been going on for many years and did not halt all tourism, but Darcy had heard tell of more than one young man who had gone off on a grand tour of the continent never to return. He could never do such a thing to his family.

Fortunately, he had a father who was sensitive to a young man's wanderlust and had arranged a domestic tour to sate his need for adventure until Napoleon tired of conquest. Mr. Darcy announced that his son was, in fact, to travel, if not to any place exotic. There were many places in England, Wales, and Scotland that might be of interest to a pair of young men fresh from Cambridge. He would be joined by his cousin, who would enjoy his last few months traveling as a civilian before taking up arms for England in September.

 _June 1807_

A trip to Scotland! Elizabeth Bennet had never been so excited. In her seventeen years of life, she had never travelled further than London, and that only once, on the occasion of her uncle's wedding. Now, that same uncle had business in Scotland and had offered to take her along as a companion for his wife. Elizabeth's only regret was that her mother had refused to allow her eldest sister, Jane, to accompany them although she had, of course, been invited. Now that she had past her eighteenth birthday, Jane, according to Mrs. Bennet, could no longer waste time scampering about the country and beyond on a lark, it was time for her to use her beauty to attract a husband. Although Elizabeth was also out in society, even her meddling mother allowed that she had at least a few more months before she needed to be concerned about becoming an old maid. After all, Mrs. Bennet had not been married until she was seventeen and a half.

Edward Gardiner, brother to the excitable Mrs. Bennet, had been wed some five months before to the former Miss Madeline Cunningham. The still newly-wed Mrs. Gardiner was quite fond of her husband so, despite her generally agreeable disposition, she was not well-pleased when he announced that he would undertake alone a necessary trip north to visit the mills that supplied his warehouse. Upon discussion, she discovered that his only real objection to having her as a travel companion was that of her own lack of diversion during the trip. He was certain that due to his pressing business, she would be quite bored spending her days alone at Scottish inns. By inviting his two oldest nieces to accompany them, this problem was happily solved for Mrs. Gardiner who, being closer to their ages than those of her sisters-in-law, was delighted at the prospect of such amiable company. Even one niece was quite the treat, especially because Elizabeth, with her quick wit and lively manner, had easily become Mrs. Gardiner's favourite new relation, save her husband of course.

The upcoming visit to Scotland promised to be an exciting one.


	2. Chapter 1: A Chance Meeting

_July 1807_

It was a particularly lovely day, and Elizabeth was happily availing herself of the sunshine by reading beside a verdant hedge. It had been difficult to leave her aunt alone at a strange place in Scotland when the elder woman was feeling poorly but Mrs. Gardiner had insisted that her niece not waste such beautiful weather sitting about indoors. The inn at which they were presently residing was quite rural, and even after spending several days in the area, Elizabeth had not seen nearly all there was to see of the local flora so, book in hand, she had taken off along a less-used path which had brought her to the lovely meadow in which she now reclined, allowing Shakespeare's sonnets to add to her enjoyment. Engrossed as she was in her reading, she hardly heard the clamour approaching until it was too late.

As she attempted to rise to see to the source of the sound, Elizabeth found her skirt to be caught on the hedge. As she crouched down, attempting to free herself without damaging her apparel, a shadow passed overhead quickly, then was gone with a thud. Seeing a large black horse land so near to her caused an involuntary scream to escape her lips. The next thing she saw was the horse turning quickly to the side. Suddenly a man, set off balance by the movement, fell at her feet. Finally free from the hedge, Elizabeth leapt up, searching briefly in the direction from which the horse had come for any further threats. Not seeing any, she slowly approached the man on the ground, who appeared to be in some pain and unable to catch his breath. The horse trotted the short distance to a nearby body of water, where it stopped to have a drink.

"Are you all right, Sir?" Although she deliberately stood outside of the man's reach, concern for his welfare was evident on Elizabeth's face. Her caring nature could hardly be overcome by a bit of a scare.

"Where . . . horse . . . ?" The man managed to gasp. His eyes bulged from the effort of speaking as all the breath had been forced from his lungs by the fall.

"He has only gone over to that pond." She gestured in the direction his horse had fled. "I can see him from here, and he seems to have no inclination to go any further."

"Why . . . alone . . . lady . . . not safe?" The words were coming slightly more easily, although he still fought for each one.

"I was quite safe when I was alone," Elizabeth pointed out with a smile, "it is only since your arrival that I seem to be in any sort of danger." The man slowly pulled himself to a sitting position and raked a large hand through his dark, wavy hair, pulling it back from his eyes in order to get a good look at the young lady who had caused his fall. His brown eyes met her green ones and he concentrated on her face. At first, it was only an attempt to make the world stop spinning about him.

He found, however, that even after his vision steadied, it was difficult to tear his eyes away from hers, there was a spark in them the like of which he had never before seen. He had to force himself to study her other attributes in order to determine what kind of woman she might be. Her dress was fine, although he had seen much finer, and she held herself with pride and grace. She sounded English and he would have thought her to be the daughter of a gentleman were it not for her scandalously bare feet and unbound hair, strands of which drifted in front of her face, propelled by the gentle breeze.

"I am sorry," he spoke slowly as his ability to breathe easily returned, "to have frightened you, but you can hardly fault me for jumping the hedge behind which you were hidden. I had no idea there was a dryad* about." As soon as the words left his mouth, the man's eyes widened in alarm. He ought not to have spoken so freely and inappropriately to a young lady no matter how wild her look.

He was relieved to see the young lady's beautiful eyes dance with mirth rather than anger as she responded to his statement with humour. "Your mind must have indeed been addled in your fall, Sir. Were I a such a creature, I would be hiding in the wood." She gestured toward the thicket of trees through which led the path back to the inn.

He smiled at her quick wit and continued to admire her beauty for a long moment as she became increasingly uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze. "Ah, perhaps a naiad* then, did you arise from the lake?" At her sceptical and amused expression, he continued. "I know you must be a nymph of some kind for you are clearly one with nature."

Elizabeth was only further confused until she followed his gaze to her feet. Suddenly she became extremely aware of the feeling of grass between her toes and realized the folly of her indulgence. "Oh! Please, turn around so that I may retrieve my shoes and stockings." She did not wait to see if he complied, but turned her own back to him as she fumbled beneath her discarded bonnet for her footwear. She plopped onto the ground and put on her stockings and half boots before hurriedly pinning up her hair and covering the mess with her bonnet. She quickly donned her gloves as she turned back to face the mysterious man, relieved to discover that he had obeyed her request and sat facing the hedge, waiting patiently for permission to look at her once again.

"Thank you, Sir, for your indulgence. I am presentable now, or as close as I may come under these circumstances." He spun around, still seated, and was arrested once again by her appearance. Several stubborn locks had rejected their haphazard rearrangement and stuck out from under her bonnet at all angles. He was struck with a sudden and inexplicable desire to grab one and feel it twist around his finger, but managed instead to clear his throat and make a more respectable request.

"I beg your pardon Madam, for intruding upon your solitude, but I wonder if I might importune you to aid me a small amount before you return to wherever it is you are staying." He very much desired to find out her location, although he was unsure of what he might do should she give it. The beauty before him either knew his game already or was too naive to understand the implication of his remark. He wondered which it was as she replied.

"Perhaps I need only go as far as the nearest oak or spring." Elizabeth briefly smiled at him in a flirtatious manner before clapping her hand over her mouth in surprise at her own behaviour, her face flushing with embarrassment at her forward speech. She was partially consoled to see the gentleman's face redden slightly as well as he failed to hide a smile at her impertinent reference to his earlier boldness. "What can I do for you Sir?" She mumbled out, her head held down in an attempt to hid her blush.

"I find that I have been hurt by the fall too badly to walk much distance and I was hoping that you would be able to bring my horse to me so that I might mount him."

"I can certainly attempt to do so Sir, but I am unsure of the results. I have never had much luck with equine obedience."

"There is no doubt in my mind of your success with such an endeavour. I believe you, in particular, to be quite suited to such a task, Madam. You see, my horse is called Dionysus*."

Elizabeth laughed and walked over to where the creature in question was lazily lapping at the small pool of water beside which he stood. She stopped several feet away and called his name, to no avail. After trying to talk to the large stallion a few times more, she slowly approached him and reached for his reins. Dionysus reared back a bit, which stopped her short, but she persevered, speaking softly as she made a second attempt to capture the fearsome beast. Before long, he acquiesced enough to allow the young woman to lead him back to his master. When they came to a halt in front of the still seated gentleman, Elizabeth could no longer contain her curiosity. "How are you hurt, Sir?"

"I have only turned my ankle. It is a common injury and might be treated easily enough with the proper application of a bandage, but I find that I cannot manage to remove my boot alone."

Elizabeth bit her lip in an unconsciously endearing manner. "Perhaps I could help you."

He laughed. "Have you ever before removed a man's boot?"

She was unsure whether to laugh or take umbrage at the question. As was her wont, she chose the former. "Of course not, but I was willing to try for the sake of your health."

"I appreciate that, Madam, but my cousin will help me once I return, or a servant at the inn. I believe I can do so without too much trouble once I get on my horse."

"How do you plan to mount?"

"With a bit of difficulty, I presume." He grimaced as he tried to stand on his own and collapsed back onto his behind. "Perhaps, if I could get a grip on the reins." He reached for them ineffectively as Dionysus took a step, pulling them just out of his reach.

"Here," Elizabeth held out her hand, "let me help you." She was mildly offended by the stranger's dubious eyebrow raise. "I assure you, Sir, I am sturdier than I appear to be."

"Of that, I have no doubt, otherwise you might blow away entirely in the next stiff breeze." Her widened eyes reminded him of his excessive familiarity. "My apologies, Madam. It is possible that the fall from my horse did addle my mind after all, I have never before been so forward with a stranger."

"Excepting our mutual ignorance of each others' identities, I would hardly call us strangers, Sir. Somehow, I feel as though I know you already." She walked off a bit and returned with a thick branch that she had retrieved from the ground. "Perhaps, you would feel more confident putting your weight on this."

He smiled at her gratefully and wrenched himself to a standing position, leaning heavily on his improvised cane, and clutching Elizabeth's elbow for balance. He did his best to keep the bulk of his weight off of the slight young woman who had come to his aid, using her ready arm only to steady himself as he struggled to mount his horse. The process took an excessively long time but eventually, he sat astride the beast, breathing rather more heavily than he would prefer.

"Farewell, mysterious gentleman," she waved, "perhaps we will meet again someday."

Not knowing how else to respond, he bade her goodbye as well, impetuously addressing her as a nymph one more time, before riding toward his lodging, never looking behind himself to see which path the young woman took, despite his deep curiosity regarding where she might go.

By the time Elizabeth returned to the inn, she found her uncle returned from conducting his business and deep in conversation with his wife, who was feeling better than she had been earlier in the day. Elizabeth shared with her relations the events of her day, omitting only her impropriety of dress and the extent of the flirtation in which she had engaged with the mysterious gentleman whose name she still did not know.

Mrs. Gardiner had much recovered by the time that supper was served at the inn, and they ate together in the noisy dining room. Elizabeth could not help but glance toward each man who entered with hopeful eyes, searching for the dark haired stranger. Although she had no idea what she might say to him, she desired to see the handsome horseman again. She went to bed that night disappointed.

*A nymph is a creature of Greek mythology, a female spirit of nature generally playful, often depicted scantily clad. (It is interesting, although not pertinent, that the word "nymphomania" comes from this root.)

A dryad is a tree nymph and a naiad is a water nymph.

Nymphs were associated with several Olympian deities including Dionysus, god of wine and merriment.


	3. Chapter 2: Introductions

That same evening, a gentleman was regaling his cousin with a similar, if more complete, tale as he bandaged his ankle, regretting not bringing his valet along on the voyage.

"I tell you Richard, she was like a spirit of nature, standing there with her toes bared to the elements and her hair wild and down past her waist. I have never wished so much to kiss a woman as I did at that moment."

"Perhaps you ought to have."

"Do not be ridiculous, I think she may have been a gentleman's daughter. At the very least, she was no servant."

"Since when has that mattered to you, Darcy? I have never known you to trifle with any woman at all, regardless of her station."

"I have never known myself to speak as I did to her either. It was as if something possessed me and I had no control of my own tongue. I cannot stop thinking about her, even now."

"I suppose she was the most beautiful creature you have ever seen." Richard Fitzwilliam could hardly contain his glee at having cause to tease his normally staid cousin. The man so rarely did anything outside that which was expected of him.

"I cannot even begin to compare her to any other woman of my acquaintance. I suppose that her features were not the most exquisite I have ever seen but it was as if there was something ethereal about her - something that transcends traditional beauty."

"Perhaps your ankle was not your only injury today." At Darcy's quizzical look, he explained. "I suspect you may have hit your head as well." The only response Fitzwilliam received was a well-aimed boot sent sailing toward his chest. Fortunately, quick reflexes allowed him to catch it easily with a laugh. "All this flirting must have made you hungry, Cousin, shall we go and have supper?"

"I fear I am not feeling equal to company at the moment, Richard. Perhaps we could dine above stairs tonight."

His cousin acquiesced and a servant was dispatched to bring the gentlemen's meal to their chambers.

The next morning, Darcy asked his cousin to bind his ankle once again and he tested his mobility. Finding it to be uncomfortable but satisfactory, he suggested that they venture downstairs to break their fast. As they entered the dining room of the inn, he saw a blond woman begin to swoon. Fitzwilliam, who had entered ahead of him, was fortunately close enough to catch the woman before she fell. The woman was immediately conscious and blinking her eyes in rapid succession. Darcy hung back and watched as a sandy-haired gentleman and a darker girl rushed to the woman's side.

"Maddie, love, are you alright?" The man's brow was creased with worry as he took the woman, obviously his wife, into his arms.

"Thank you, Sir, for your timely interference." Darcy gasped. From his vantage point, he could not see the girl's face, but he would never forget that voice nor the siren to whom it belonged.

Fitzwilliam waved off her thanks and that of the man, who only spoke after he had ascertained the well-being of his wife and sat her in a nearby chair. He was a bit taken aback by the unwavering gaze of the very young woman who seemed to be studying his face intently.

"Please, at least allow me to thank you properly, Mr . . ." the man trailed off expectantly.

"Fitzwilliam, I am Richard Fitzwilliam."

"Thank you then, Mr. Fitzwilliam. I am Edward Gardiner, and the lovely woman you helped is my wife Madeline." He took their younger companion gently by the elbow and introduced her as well. "This is our niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is providing company to my wife while I conduct business in Scotland. You must join us for our morning meal Sir. Are you travelling alone?"

"No, I am on a tour with my cousin, a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, but he seems to be even more laconic than usual today. There he is, standing in the doorway. Darcy, come here and meet my new friends!"

Darcy had, in fact, been trying to find a vantage point from which to observe his nymph, whose name he was now delighted to know. He could tell now, under more ordinary circumstances, that it was true that she was hardly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but there was absolutely no doubt that she was quite pretty. Despite her evident concern for her aunt, there was an youthful exuberance to her face. Her figure, while light and pleasing, was womanly enough in shape to leave no question as to whether she had left her childhood behind.

As he stepped into view, Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. Here, before her now, was the man who had haunted her dreams the night before. The odd familiarity she had seen in the other man's face suddenly made sense, they were kin. Although Fitzwilliam was a few inches shorter than his cousin, and his hair was several shades lighter, there was a similarity in their appearance that was evident when they stood side by side. They shared the same regal nose and their eyes, although different in colour, were nearly identical in shape.

Doing her best to collect herself, Elizabeth curtsied politely and spoke with a slightly trembling voice. "It is a pleasure to meet you properly at last, Sir. I do hope your ankle is on the mend." At her companion's quizzical look, she explained. "Mr. Darcy is the man whom I met in the meadow yesterday, Uncle."

A look of comprehension flooded Fitzwilliam's face as well. Suddenly, Darcy's distraction made sense. His cousin had been quite bewitched by this creature. He wondered what sort of business her uncle might have in Scotland and whether it was respectably estate-related or instead the kind that might disallow a continued acquaintance; some sort of trade, perhaps. He did his best to study her surreptitiously. She was pretty, to be sure, but certainly not beautiful enough to make a man lose his head over her. He wondered what it really was that had so captured the attention of his sedate companion.

Mr. Gardiner greeted Darcy politely and without undue questions, which led Darcy to the conclusion that Miss Bennet's tale had not been so detailed as his own when related the night before. Any conscientious guardian would be incensed at the manner in which he had spoken to her the previous day if made privy to it, and Mr. Gardiner did not strike him as a careless man, although he was a bit preoccupied at the moment with his wife's ill health.

Fitzwilliam graciously accepted the invitation to join their new acquaintances for breakfast and they all sat down together to enjoy the repast. Mrs. Gardiner ate, if not heartily, at least a full meal, which helped ease her companions' worry, but did not alleviate it completely. She participated enthusiastically in the conversation, especially when she heard one of her new acquaintances mention her home county.

"You are from Derbyshire? I say, are you by any chance related to the Darcys of Pemberley?"

"That is my father's estate, do you know it, Madam?"

"I toured it once as a girl. I was born and raised in Lambton, in Derbyshire."

"Why, that is not five miles from Pemberley! I go there often, perhaps we have crossed paths at some previous point in time."

"I doubt it, for I certainly would remember even a passing acquaintance with a member of the area's foremost family. I still remember seeing your mother once when I was a girl. She was buying ribbons in my uncle's shop."

"Is your uncle Mr. Brown?" Darcy outwardly controlled his disappointment at seeing her nod. He now knew for certain that Miss Bennet's connections were too far below his own to even contemplate a courtship. Realizing he had been silent for a few moments too long, he continued. "He carries some delightful things, my sister Georgiana loves his shop as well. Does your father have a business nearby? Perhaps I have made his acquaintance" He held out hope that her father was at least a wealthy tradesman, the daughters of such people sometimes married into the gentry.

"No, my father is the vicar at Lambton. As it is not your family's parish, I doubt you would ever have had cause to make his acquaintance, Sir."

Darcy smiled, his prospects with Miss Bennet were improving, her connections were not all in trade. Perhaps she was a gentleman's daughter after all. "No, but he does have a reputation as a good and a respectable clergyman, I have heard tell of him. He is the younger son of Lord Joseph Cunningham of Greensdown, is he not?"

"Yes, although my uncle has held the barony for some years now.

"Of course. Do you often visit the estate?"

"I am afraid that I have not been since my grandfather's passing. My father and his brother do not get on well."

"I am sorry to hear that, it is a lovely estate, perhaps fifteen miles from Pemberley. I have not been there in years, but my grandfather was friends with yours, I recall hearing. I have never met your uncle."

"With all due respect, Mr. Darcy, I doubt you would get along."

Darcy's brow furrowed in brief confusion before he recalled some rumours he had heard about the current baron's dissolute habits. Still, the connection existed and might allow Miss Bennet to remain within his reach if the rest of her family was of a similar social level. He pondered why he cared so much about his prospects with a young woman he barely knew, but could think only of her beauty and the way she had smiled at him as they flirted in the meadow. He had thought of nothing but her the entire night before, imagined kissing her pursed lips and running his hands through her flowing locks. He had even had a few less gentlemanly thoughts but he forced himself to push those aside and return as his focus to the conversation into which his cousin had entered. He thought he heard Fitzwilliam explaining the reasons for their tour to Scotland, then inquiring as to the nature of Mr. Gardiner's business.

"I have a textile warehouse in London, and am negotiating with producers of wool in Scotland. There are three different mills here from which I receive product. This is our first stop and I hope, for the sake of my lovely companions, that the others do not take quite as long as it appears this will."

"Oh, Edward, you hardly need to worry about us. I am enjoying the fresh air outside of London and I am sure that Lizzy appreciates the peace and quiet for a change."

"Do you find London to be overly noisy, Miss Bennet?" Fitzwilliam smiled at the young woman in a way that made his cousin want to punch him. Darcy fought against his unwarranted feelings of possessiveness and listened intently to her response.

"I have hardly been to London, and thus have no opinions whatsoever about its air, Sir, although I am looking forward to returning there. My aunt and uncle have promised to take me to a play before returning me to Hertfordshire, where I reside at Longbourn, which is my father's estate."

"Since when is a country estate a noisy place to be? I admit that I find my own father's to be quite dull."

"You must not have four sisters, Sir."

"I admit that I do not, although my brother and myself have been known to be quite rowdy on occasion, it is a well known fact that boys are not nearly so boisterous as girls." Elizabeth laughed and agreed with Fitzwilliam's jocular assertion.

Darcy was desperate to become involved in the conversation, but could hardly think of a thing to say. As he sat there, fuming at his cousin's easy nature, he delighted in the knowledge that Miss Bennet was the daughter of a gentleman and did his best to watch her surreptitiously as she spoke in an animated fashion about the trials of growing up as the second of five girls. There was a light in her eyes that he had never before seen in a young woman. She seemed to be the most genuine person he had ever met and that only made him want to know her better.


	4. Chapter 3: Lessons & Departures

Mr. Gardiner spent another fortnight in negotiations with the local mill while his companions fell into a daily routine of sorts. Elizabeth had always enjoyed walking in the morning at home but found that Mrs. Gardiner did not feel equal to joining her so early. Although Elizabeth felt some guilt at abandoning the woman for whose amusement she had been brought to Scotland, she could do no good remaining at the inn, and so struck out on her own. It became her habit to ramble about the countryside before joining her aunt for the midday meal and spending the afternoon together. She almost always managed to meet Mr. Darcy on her morning perambulation and the young pair happily spent hours in each other's company.

They conversed on all manner of topics. Darcy was amazed to find that a seventeen year-old girl who had never received any formal schooling could keep pace with him on discussions of literature, philosophy, and history.

"Next you will tell me that you play chess and fence!" He exclaimed on the third day of their walks after she corrected a Shakespearean verse he had misquoted.

"I do the former rather poorly and the latter not at all, but I am always ready to learn if anyone would care to teach me."

"In which activity do you request instruction, Madam?"

"Either, I suppose, or perhaps both." She smiled enigmatically and skipped ahead down the path, leaving him unsure how to respond..

A playfulness that Darcy only felt in her presence took over him and he veered off into the wood, where he selected two thin branches of similar length. "En garde!" He called loudly enough to get Elizabeth's attention. When she turned toward him, he tossed her one of the branches, fearing immediately after it left his hand that he had miscalculated and she would be offended, hit by the makeshift sword, or even a combination of the two.

He need not have worried, his companion's reflexes were sufficient to snatch the branch out of the air, but she was clearly unsure what to do next. Darcy had returned to the path and fallen into an en garde stance with his foil of sorts at the ready. She stared at him for a moment long enough to make him begin to feel self conscious before imitating his stance, lifting her own branch in the same manner, acting as though she had a real epée as well.

"Now what?" She challenged playfully.

Darcy had not thought this far ahead and had to take a few minutes to formulate a plan. He slowly lunged and explained to Elizabeth how to parry his thrust. She giggled at the impropriety of it all but tried a few times before successfully deflecting her opponent's branch as she ought. Darcy praised her achievement and began anew with the next lesson. Their fencing session did not last long but by the time it was over, Elizabeth's appetite had been thoroughly whetted for more.

They returned to the inn, laughing and planning future lessons. Upon their approach, they saw Mrs. Gardiner bidding farewell to a man who was mounting a horse. The man looked vaguely familiar, but Elizabeth could not place him. She asked her companion if he recognized the stranger.

"I do recall seeing him a few days ago . . ." Darcy paused and thought for a moment. "I believe he was here to see to Mr. MacArthur's leg." The innkeeper had been kicked by a horse earlier in the week.

"Oh my, you are right, he is the local surgeon. I do hope my aunt is not truly ill!" Elizabeth was alarmed at the realization that this might be the case as it would explain Mrs. Gardiner's lack of energy of late.

"I am sure she is fine, did you see how she was smiling as she waved him off?"

"She is such a pleasant woman, I am afraid she might smile out of politeness. I knew something was wrong, I ought never to have left her alone."

"Does she ask for you to stay with her in the mornings?"

"No, but she was so healthy and strong before. These past weeks, however, she has been so very tired and especially pale. You must remember how she fainted that morning after we met."

"I believe since that we had not previously been properly introduced, Madam, that was in fact the morning on which we met ."

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth slapped his arm lightly in an irritated fashion. "You are trying to distract me."

"It appears to be working, Miss Bennet. You now seem more angry with me than concerned about your ailing aunt." At her huff of annoyance, he encouraged her to go check on Mrs. Gardiner and promised to see her at dawn the next day for their usual walk.

As they parted, Darcy thought to himself that they had never actually spoken of plans to meet before. Suddenly, he felt like he had an illicit assignation and a shudder of something ran down his spine. If he was a gentleman more prone to such behavior, he might have recognized it as the thrill of the forbidden.

By the time Elizabeth reached the inn, her aunt was no longer visible. Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner had only retired to her chambers and was rather easy to find.

"Aunt Gardiner, did I see the surgeon leaving here?"

"I cannot be sure of what you saw, but I know that he was here. How was your walk, Lizzy?"

"It was lovely until I noticed you with the surgeon. Are you feeling quite well?"

"I have never been better."

"You have been so ill, did the doctor give you a curative, then?"

"Only words, but they have worked wonders."

"What did he tell you? You will be alright, will you not?"

"I will be, Lizzy, it will only take some time."

"So you are not cured? Please, Aunt, have pity on me and tell me what ails you."

Mrs. Gardiner took her petulant niece by the hands and sat with her on the sofa. "I shall, my dear, but you must promise not to tell a soul my news;" at Elizabeth's nod, she continued, "especially your uncle, for I wish to share this with him myself this evening."

"Of course, Aunt, it will be as you wish." Elizabeth was fairly bursting with anticipation.

"Although we cannot be certain of anything quite yet, I do believe that I am with child."

"Oh!" The excited proclamation hung in the air for a moment before Elizabeth hugged her aunt enthusiastically.

Thereafter, Elizabeth was less concerned for her aunt's well-being and could think only with delight, instead of guilt, about her daily walks with Darcy.

The next morning began a tradition of fencing lessons that continued on for the rest of their stay in the area. The day before The Gardiners were to depart, Darcy suggested that they try a bit of sparring. Eager to put to use that which she had learned, Elizabeth agreed and alone in their meadow, the pair had at each other with their sticks.

Darcy had decided to go easy on his pupil, and allowed her to gain a bit of ground before forcing her back toward the trees. They went back and forth in this manner for several minutes until, unused to the exertion, Elizabeth was panting with the effort. Suddenly, Darcy found that he had a problem he had never before encountered while on a piste, he was aroused. Elizabeth's deep and increasingly frequent breaths displayed her rounded bosom to a distinct advantage which was increased further by a thin sheen of perspiration caused by the exercise on such a hot summer day. His own breath catching in his throat, Darcy was thrown off guard long enough to be disarmed by his comely opponent who, although shocked at her success, wasted no time in stepping forward and laying her ersatz blade against his throat.

Darcy looked disbelievingly at his companion, who beamed up at him with pride, and almost without knowing what he did, he grabbed her about the waist, pulling her forward the short distance until she made contact with his body. Dropping her faux foil in surprise, Elizabeth blinked at him in confusion but made no effort to escape. Darcy held her gaze for only a moment before capturing her lips with his own. She stiffened in his arms for just a moment before relaxing, allowing him to kiss her as her own arms wrapped themselves about his neck.

Elizabeth hardly knew what was happening. One moment, she was having a friendly, if inappropriate, fencing match with her superior in the sport, the next thing she knew, she had won and was fairly certain, given the surprised look on his face, that he had not purposely allowed such an outcome. Before she had time to revel in her success however, she found herself in an even more unprecedented situation, being kissed by a man. She certainly thought Darcy handsome enough, she had even entertained the thought of being courted by him, despite knowing the disparity in their circumstances would not allow for it. She was slightly frightened at the prospect of doing something so unknown and forbidden, but was determined not to pull away in fear. After all, she was enjoying herself or knew she would be if only the shock would pass.

Indeed, after a few seconds of kissing, fear was the last thing on her mind. Elizabeth felt the gentle pressure of the gentleman's lips against her own and all thoughts flew out of her head except for the curious pleasure it gave her. She perceived a pleasant tingling sensation in her stomach that only intensified as the kiss continued. When Darcy pulled back infinitesimally to take a breath, she did as well and was again startled by the immediate reapplication of his lips to hers. His tongue fleetingly darted between her open lips as he pulled her more tightly against his body. Elizabeth felt an unfamiliar shape pressing into her belly and let out an unconscious moan when his hand drifted down to cup her bottom.

All at once he let go of her and she felt completely bereft, her lips still slightly puckered against the air. He stammered an apology and hurried away, leaving Elizabeth standing, confused, in the meadow.

When Darcy arrived at the inn, he came upon Fitzwilliam, who was breaking his fast alone.

"Richard, I think it is time to leave." The flustered man said to his cousin.

"Finally, Darcy. I have been saying that for over a week now. What has finally brought you around?"

"It matters not. I only know that I am finished with this place."

"We can leave at first light on the morrow."

"No, today. I wish to leave today."

"Very well, shall you take a meal first?"

"I will speak to the innkeeper about sending along some food. Prepare to leave, I shall settle our accounts."

Perplexed, but grateful to be going at last, Richard Fitzwilliam headed up the stairs. He had been growing quite bored and had no idea why his cousin had insisted on remaining so long at this particular inn. Well, he had some inkling, seeing the way that Darcy looked at the lovely Miss Bennet when they were occasionally in company together although he had not noticed any particular interaction between the pair that would suggest a much more intimate relationship than he had with the young lady himself, nothing beyond some harmless flirting on occasion. Of course, flirting of any kind was quite unusual for Darcy but still, Fitzwilliam knew that a marriage between the two would be highly unlikely, as his cousin had been raised with loftier expectations than that of a poor gentleman's daughter with relatives in trade and Darcy was far too honourable to trifle with the girl.

Realizing he could not solve the mystery himself, Fitzwilliam decided to acquiesce to his cousin's demand that they leave immediately before he changed his mind and insisted that they stay in this boring Scottish hamlet even longer than he had already.

The conversation Darcy started once they had ridden some distance from the inn was both interesting and baffling to the already confused Fitzwilliam.

"You have, ah, been with a woman, have you not?"

It took all of Fitzwilliam's self control not to react so strongly to the query as to discourage further discourse. "Of course, what of it?"

"What is it . . . like?"

"I knew it! Spencer owes me twenty pounds." He could not contain his triumph at the tacit admission.

"Pardon me?" The dark haired man flushed with embarrassment.

"I knew you were an innocent. My brother was sure you must have lain with some trollop or other by now, but I told him you were too saintly for such a thing. Why even Wickham suggested -"

"Thank you," Darcy interrupted his amused cousin, "I am so gratified to know that there is nothing more entertaining for you than to wager on my morality."

"Now, now, Darcy, do not be so outraged. You asked me that question for a reason and I do not intend to disappoint you. Have you decided that it is time to become a man after all? I am sure that we can find some tasty little demimonde in the next town to introduce you to the ways of the world."

"Do not be crass, Richard, I meant no such thing." Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and paused a long time before continuing. "Have you ever lain with a maiden?"

"Of course not. What do you take me for? I am a man with healthy desires to be sure and while I admit I am no monk, neither am I a rake. I have neither ruined a woman nor dishonoured a marriage, although I admit, there has been more than adequate temptation to do the latter." His eyes glazed over a bit as he recollected some seductive wife or other.

There was another long pause before Darcy continued with his line of inquiry. "I have heard that relations can be unpleasant, even painful for a young lady. Do you know if that is true?"

"Why are you suddenly showing interest in such a subject, Cousin?"

"Perhaps I only wish to further my education. I had assumed you might be a discreet source of information. Forgive my misapprehension." Darcy huffed in annoyance and urged his mount faster.

"I am sorry, Darcy." Fitzwilliam hurried to catch up, aware that his cousin's ire was likely meant to mask his embarrassment. "I shall edify you to the best of my ability. In response to your query, I can tell you for certain that the act can be quite pleasant for both parties involved if you do it correctly. It is my understanding, however, that it can be a bit painful for lady on her first time. My own lack of personal experience with such things aside, that seems to be a generally accepted fact although one must wonder at the things young women are told about the process - they must be kept pure, after all."

"How does one go about engaging in – I mean, I understand the basic mechanics as far as parts . . . well, I believe I do. Regarding, ah, coupling though, how would one start? Theoretically, of course."

"Well, you must prepare her first for -" at his cousin's uncomfortable look, Fitzwilliam continued in more general terms. "One must remember that when in such an intimate situation, there is no part of a lady's body that he ought not to kiss or touch."

"Not even her . . ." Darcy's eyes grew wide in amazement and though he named no specific body part, Fitzwilliam took his meaning.

"Especially not that." He told his eager and mortified pupil. The hours of their ride were filled with a mixture of scientific information and ribald tales, leaving one party wiser as to carnal relations and the other increasingly suspicious of his companion's motives.


	5. Chapter 4: Reacquainted

August 1807

It had been nearly three weeks since she had been kissed and Elizabeth was still tied up in knots about it. On one hand, it was possibly the most pleasant experience of her life, although she admitted that its brief perfection may have been romanticised in her mind due to the innumerable times Elizabeth had re-lived the moment. On the other, the way that the gentleman had run off with neither an apology for his forward nature nor a declaration of his intentions had hurt her deeply. She had hoped to see him at the inn later that day, perhaps even have a few words with him before her party left the next morning, but she found that by the time she had collected herself and returned from her walk, both her lover and his cousin had quitted the place for good.

The next inn at which they had stayed was located in the centre of a town, allowing for less easy rambling about the Scottish countryside alone. Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner's health had begun to improve and she was able to spend most of her mornings in the company of her niece, although she had begun to grow concerned at the usually ebullient young woman's low spirits.

It was not that Elizabeth was sad, exactly. In fact, there was a part of her that was quite elated at having added to her life experience in a way. The true problem was that she was terribly confused. She knew now, without a doubt, that she was in love with one Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. This knowledge alone, however, was of little use since she did not know was what could be done about it. Afraid to confide in her aunt about her licentious behaviour in repeated meetings alone with the gentlemen and even more so in accepting his kiss, Elizabeth kept to herself the deluge of feelings that engulfed her every time she thought of Darcy which was often, if not constantly. There was no doubt about it, she was pining.

Finally, they had moved onto the last stop of their trip. A rural inn more like the first, Elizabeth was pleased that she could resume her habit of walking out. She went with Mrs. Gardiner some mornings and alone when her aunt did not feel up to the exercise, both relishing and hating the time it gave her to think. On the fifth day of their visit, she stopped on a solo jaunt by a creek and after ascertaining that there was nobody about, removed her shoes and stockings in order to wet her feet.

Darcy and Fitzwilliam were on their way back to England. The latter was to take up a commission in His Majesty's army in a month; besides, his cousin had grown to be rather poor company over the past few weeks. The questions and insinuations and even Darcy's lovesick languishing had been amusing at first but had eventually grown tiresome.

It was early in the day, they had ridden only a few hours since departing from their previous accomodation, when they passed a small inn. Fitzwilliam would have been loath to describe the place, so few identifying characteristics did it have so he was shocked when Darcy motioned for him to stop as he drew his own horse to a halt.

"Let us stop for the night, Richard."

"The night, are you daft? The sun is still high. In fact, if we hurry, we may yet be able to reach England by nightfall.

"I just – I would like to remain here for the rest of the day, this seems to be a lovely countryside."

"Of course it is a lovely countryside, we have seen nothing but lovely countryside for the past month. What I want to see is a play or fencing match." Fitzwilliam was so distracted by his frustration that he failed to notice how red his cousin turned when his last words brought up memories of a certain woman. "I wish to sleep in my own bed!"

"I promise, Cousin, this shall be the last stop I request for any reason but sleep. I beg of you to engage for us a pair of rooms while I enjoy the view."

Fitzwilliam began to protest, but was not heard, for he was soon left alone on horseback in front of the inn. Sighing, he dismounted and led his horse to the stable.

Darcy spotted a creek and rode toward it, turning to follow its flow once he had crossed the short distance, slowly picking up speed. He was certain that the carriage he had seen at the side of the inn belonged to the Gardiners. It was a plain carriage, likely rented, but he had committed to memory the specific marks of age it showed when he had encountered it the month before although he had not realized he was doing so at the time. As he hurried, he saw a sight that caused him to pull sharply on Dionysus's reins for the second time that day.

There, before him, was the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last score nights. Barefoot, as she had been the first time he saw her, holding her skirts up and wading in the stream. She laughed out loud as the flowing water tickled her feet and Darcy was certain that he had never heard a more melodious sound. He approached slowly on his horse in an attempt not to frighten her but Elizabeth was too distracted by her play to notice his approach.

"Miss Bennet!" He called out softly, once he felt he was close enough for her to hear him clearly.

She turned suddenly at the sound and slipped, falling onto her bottom in the creek with a splash. In an instant, Darcy had dismounted and run to her, stepping into the shallow water to retrieve her despite her protests. When he held her in his arms, however, he realized he had made a mistake; he needed to talk to her, calmly and rationally but there was no way he could be this close to her again and not kiss her, especially not with her gown clinging in certain inappropriate but undeniably lovely ways. In truth, he hardly tried to control himself at all once he looked into her eyes and saw his affection reflected back in them.

This time, Elizabeth gave in for only a few seconds before recollecting herself, pulling back and struggling out of his arms when he attempted to deepen the kiss. Reluctantly, Darcy set her on the ground, certain it was only the position she objected to, and reached for her again. He was shocked to find himself thwarted by a blow across his handsome face.

Physically, it hardly hurt at all. Elizabeth was a small woman with proportional hands and a difficult angle from which to strike, but in his heart, Darcy felt as though he had never been more wounded in all his life. She stepped back immediately, clapping her hands over her mouth in horror at her own actions, then burst immediately into tears. He hesitated only a brief moment before taking her into his arms and stroking her back comfortingly.

For several long minutes, Elizabeth sobbed out her pain. She had been able to think of nothing for weeks but kissing this man and when presented with the opportunity to repeat the event she found so delightful, she could think of nothing but why it ought not be. When her tears finally ended, she took a deep breath and looked up at him questioningly. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw your carriage and I had to stop. I was afraid I would never see you again."

"Why would you want to see me again? Oh, I understand; I acted as a wanton once before and you thought perhaps that this time -"

"No, Miss Bennet . . . Elizabeth, do you not understand? I had to see you again, speak with you again, kiss you again because I love you, but I suppose that you do not feel the same way." His hand went up to his assaulted cheek, which had turned the slightest bit pink.

"You love me, how can that be? We both know that I am eminently unsuitable for you."

"No, I admit that I once thought so as well, but that was before I truly ruminated upon our situation. In fact, you are the only person in the world who does suit me. Are our fathers not both gentleman? In this we are equals."

"Equals, Sir? Surely, you jest. We can be such only if our fathers truly are. I have never seen Pemberley, but from everything you and my aunt have told me, Longbourn is nothing to it. Do you know what my portion is? One thousand pounds, and that only after my mother has passed." Darcy opened his mouth, prepared to refute her argument but she went on, heedless. "Also, I have relations in trade. You cannot possibly think your family would rejoice in the inferiority of my connections!"

"Perhaps we would have a difficult time convincing my father of your suitability to be my bride, but I have no doubt that we would succeed. Nay, we will succeed, Elizabeth. There is nothing the least bit objectionable about you as a person and my father does truly care for my happiness. Besides," he smiled conspiratorially, "Pemberley is entailed upon me, so even my father's disapproval could not stop you from one day becoming its mistress."

"Its mistress? You – you wish to marry me." Elizabeth blinked in disbelief.

"Of course," Darcy was incredulous, "I would hardly behave in such a manner toward you unless I had honourable intentions."

"Did you not consider informing me of these intentions before manhandling me in such a manner?" Her spirit returned as her tears began to dry.

"I must admit that I had not truly considered anything at all. When I saw you, I could think of nothing but my desire to possess you, all of you, forever. I am sorry, I am going about this so badly."

"You are indeed. Do you have any idea how I felt when you kissed me then abandoned me in that meadow – our meadow? It was the best moment of my life, followed immediately by the worst."

"I am sorry, Elizabeth, truly I am. I knew then that I wanted to marry you, but I did not know if I could. I acted without thinking and I was afraid to spend any more time with you, I was afraid that you would draw me in and prevent me from doing my duty to my family."

"Do you not see, Mr. Darcy-"

"Fitzwilliam," he corrected her gently.

"Mr. Darcy," she insisted, "that is what has happened. You have forgotten your duty and I have forgotten mine." Elizabeth knew it was wrong to fall in love with this unattainable man, to desire his attentions in such a heedless manner.

"No, Elizabeth, my love, it is you who do not see. Marrying you is the truest duty I can perform for my family. As the heir and only son, I must marry to continue the Darcy line." He looked at her to verify that she understood. "From the moment my lips touched yours, I have known that you are the only woman I could ever marry. If I cannot have you, I swear that I will die alone."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy!"

"Fitzwilliam."

"Sir, you have not met my family."

"I have met the Gardiners, and those tradespeople are more amiable and well-bred than half of my titled acquaintance."

"Do you not recall the stories I have told you of my mother? Of my sisters?" They had, during their time together, spent hours in conversation so he knew much of the Bennets, if only by reputation.

"Your sisters are children, yet. I have a young sister as well, if you recall. She is also known to act quite silly at times. As for your mother; I do believe that all she needs is a daughter well married to calm her fear of the hedgerows."

"You make everything sound so simple."

"Everything is simple. You will return to London, or Hertfordshire if you must although I admit that I would prefer the latter for my own convenience. Either way, I shall court you properly and in a few months' time, we can be married. I promise you, Elizabeth, I will not let anybody be unkind to you."

Elizabeth knew that he would try to keep that promise, she also knew that he would likely fail. Still, she looked into his eyes and saw her future, and so said the words he wanted most to hear, words she meant with all her heart. "I love you as well, Fitzwilliam."

He gave an uncharacteristic whoop of joy and grabbed her about the waist, twirling her in the air for a moment before setting her down. "May I kiss you?" He brushed an errant curl back from her face and held his breath for the brief moment it took her to respond.

"You may." Before she even had time to blush, he was acting on her acquiescence. This kiss was not tentative like their first. It was passionate and demanding, although still gentle, they both knew little else. He lifted her against himself with both hands and sought entry to her mouth with his tongue. Elizabeth was unsure of what to do and so allowed Darcy to proceed as he desired, occasionally allowing her own tongue to touch the tip of his as it ventured experimentally into her mouth. Elizabeth had thought that her first kiss had been pleasant, but it was nothing compared to this. There was no feeling in the world like kissing the man she loved, knowing that he loved her back.

When they pulled back for air, Elizabeth assumed that the kissing would end, but Darcy was not yet ready to let that happen. He suckled fervently at her lower lip before trailing kisses across her cheek, to her ear, and down the column of her throat. Her hands, not content to be idle, stroked down his back and came to rest on his firm buttocks, where she could not help but give a small squeeze. It took Elizabeth a moment to realize that the moan she heard was emanating from her own person. She flushed pink, embarrassed at her wanton behaviour, but the praise murmured against her neck helped to ease her suffering. Darcy proclaimed her the most beautiful, passionate woman in the world. Elizabeth had no words with which to respond and only arched her body against him as he moved his pleasant assault from the base of her throat toward the top of her bosom.

Elizabeth could feel that something against her stomach again and found that when she pressed against it, it would move the slightest bit. Acting on instinct spurred on by her natural curiosity, she allowed one of her hands to migrate from her lover's backside across his hip, she had only begun to touch the front of his breeches when he stepped back from her, retaining a grip on her waist as he held her at arm's length.

"Elizabeth . . . Lizzy," he tried out the pet name he had often heard from her relatives and found that he liked it, "do you have any idea what you are doing to me?" He was fairly certain that she did not. When she shook her head, wide-eyed with contrition, he reassured her that he was enjoying himself and that he loved her, but allowed that it was time to return to the inn. Darcy offered one arm to Elizabeth and took up his horse's lead with the other.

As they approached, they saw two familiar people engaged in conversation on a bench in the garden.

"Darcy," Fitzwilliam called out dryly, "imagine my surprise to find Mrs. Gardiner here, at the very inn where you insisted we stop for the night; in the middle of the day." He fixed a look at his cousin, who ignored the dig. "Her husband is doing business with a nearby mill."

"Then it is hardly a coincidence that I encountered Miss Bennet here as well." He reluctantly stepped away from his companion in order to lead Dionysus to a stable boy before returning to the others. "Mrs. Gardiner, I do hope you and your husband are both in good health."

"We are, Mr. Darcy, I thank you. Perhaps we will see you for the evening meal." Mrs. Gardiner ended the conversation by taking her niece's hand and leading her inside the inn.

Once they were in her chambers and the door was shut, Mrs. Gardiner turned to Elizabeth, full of questions.

"Have you somehow been in communication with that young man? Did you tell him where to find us?" There could be no question as to whom she meant.

"No, I met him quite by accident."

"Quite by accident, indeed. You were mournful for weeks after his departure, then his cousin appears here in our very inn, requesting lodging for two. Mr. Fitzwilliam was just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He informed me that your Mr. Darcy decided to stop here all of a sudden and we are both quite sure that it was no coincidental whim."

"He is not my Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth's protest sounded weak even to her own ears, but she knew she ought not to lay any claim to him until he had spoken with her father regarding their courtship.

"Lizzy, what were you thinking to be behaving in such a manner? He certainly ought to be your Mr. Darcy, I know you let him kiss you."

The younger woman was mortified. "How can you tell?" Her aunt turned her to face the mirror. She was shocked to see that her lips were fuller than usual and perhaps a bit redder. Also, she saw what appeared to be a small bruise on the side of her throat. The deep blush that followed this realization reached her bosom and Elizabeth hurried to her trunk to find something to hide Darcy's mark.

"You did allow this, did you not?" At Elizabeth's verification, Mrs. Gardiner sighed. "I do not know what response I had hoped. While I am pleased to know he is not a brute, I find myself disappointed in your utter disregard for propriety."

Elizabeth found what she had been seeking, an old-fashioned fichu which would cover her neck and décolletage; she pinned it into place with shaking hands. "I was not allowing some strange man to kiss me, Aunt, I love him and he loves me."

"You hardly know him."

"On the contrary, we know each other very well and he wants to marry me."

Her aunt processed this information for a moment. "When I was ill, oh how I let you run amok! You were meeting him in secret, all that time at the inn near Selkirk." She muttered, almost to herself.

Elizabeth made no attempt to deny the accusation, but only fiddled with her hair self-consciously as she refused to make eye contact. Mrs. Gardiner took Elizabeth's face in her hands and gently forced the girl to look her in the eye. "Lizzy, sweetheart, I do not know whether that will be possible, the marriage I mean."

"Of course it will be, he promised me!" Her eyes began to grow watery. "He would not lie to me, he loves me."

"I am sure that he does." Mrs. Gardiner tenderly wiped a fallen tear from her niece's cheek. "I only wonder whether he understands all of the facts himself. Like you, Mr. Darcy is blinded by infatuation and may not be thinking clearly."

"It is not infatuation, it is love!" Elizabeth had never wanted so badly to stomp a foot in her life, but she held off for fear of acting as one of her youngest sisters.

"Of course my dear," Mrs. Gardiner said soothingly, stroking the young woman's hair, "but in the real world, love does not always conquer all. You must remember that he is not yet his own man, he must live on an allowance from his father, who may not approve of your match."

"His father wants him to be happy, Fitzwilliam is sure of it."

"Even so, he may not see this as his son's best route to happiness. Besides, your own father may not be willing to let you go. You are quite young yet."

"Mama declared me out in society nearly a year ago and Papa did nothing to stop her. If I am out, I can be wed." Elizabeth's protests sounded pleading even to her own ears.

"Still, you know you have always been special to your father, he may wish you to wait some time. He can still refuse his consent for several years yet."

Elizabeth refused to believe that her father would disregard his daughter's only chance for happiness in such a manner and escaped to her own room without further argument, throwing herself on the bed in tears. She chose not to go below stairs for dinner that evening.

In another room of the inn, a conversation that was both similar and yet vastly different was taking place.

"Darcy, please tell me that this is not the reason you were asking me those questions last month."

"What questions?" The man feigned innocence.

"You know to what I refer. You do not plan to seduce Miss Bennet, do you?"

"Seduce her? Of course not, Richard. What sort of rake do you take me for? I love and respect her too much for that. I plan to marry her."

"Marry her! Are you out of your mind? Your father will never stand for that."

Darcy put forth the very argument that he had to Elizabeth earlier in the day; pronouncing them equals in the gentry.

"Equals? Absolutely not. Look, I do not mean to disparage Miss Bennet, she seems like a lovely girl," he stressed the noun to remind his cousin of the lady's youth, "but you are in no way equals. Who is her mother? Who are her aunts and uncles? Pleasant as the Gardiners may be, you must compare their situation with that of your relations – you have noble kin. You are of different spheres, Darcy, it cannot be."

"It can be, it must be. I will marry no other."

"You will give Aunt Catherine apoplexy. You know how dearly she wishes for you to marry Anne."

"My father has never encouraged such a match. He has told me that I should wed only where I can find happiness. He loved my mother dearly."

"He did not find her frolicking barefoot in a glen. You know our grandparents arranged their match. Your parents were fortunate to fall in love, but even if they had not, they would have been like my own parents, comfortable and content in their compatibility."

"I am compatible with Eliz – with Miss Bennet."

"You are infatuated with Miss Bennet. Trust me Darcy, it will be best for both of you if we leave on the morrow and never see her again."

"Give me one more day in her company, I beg of you. We can leave the day after tomorrow. I must speak with her at least, I cannot bear the thought of leaving her without a proper farewell." His cousin reluctantly agreed and they avoided each other throughout the evening, each lost in his own thoughts.


	6. Chapter 5: Acting on Impulse

The next morning, Elizabeth woke before the rest of her party. She knew that Mrs. Gardiner had informed her husband the night before of his niece's inappropriate relationship with their Derbyshire acquaintance. He had knocked on her door, but she had refused him entrance, as she did every person except the maid with her dinner tray. Once the morning came, Elizabeth knew that she had to leave before anybody knew she was awake, else she would be prevented from doing so by well-meaning relatives. She dressed herself in her prettiest dress and a light shawl before heading back to the location where she had met Mr. Darcy the day before. As she neared the place she could think of only with pleasure, she saw that it was already occupied by a horse she recognized.

"Dionysus," she said, approaching the beast slowly, "where is your master this morning?" Predictably, the horse did not respond, but did lean into the young lady's touch as she tentatively stroked his neck.

"He likes you, Elizabeth, but what man or creature could not?" The voice she most longed to hear came from behind a tree. Soon, they were in each others' arms, kissing as if they had not seen each other for months instead of the span of one night. Eventually they broke apart and Elizabeth confessed her fears regarding their future, and the probability that a marriage was not to be.

"I know, my love, I was not concerned until I spoke with Richard last night. He is of the opinion that my family will not be eager to accept you. I do not wish to agree with him but he did cite some inarguable facts."

Elizabeth held her head high and did her best not to let fall the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I do not wish to be a point of contention with your family, Sir. I release you from – well, I suppose we are not even officially engaged, so I have no true need to release you at all. Goodbye." She croaked out the last word and turned to leave, but he caught her by the wrist and spun her toward himself, slipping an arm about her waist to hold her close as he looked her in the eye and asked an important and heartbreaking question.

"Do you wish to be released from our understanding?"

"I do not wish for you to break with your family, and I believe that your cousin is correct in his thinking. My aunt also reminded me of the disparity in our stations, despite us both being the progeny of gentlemen. In addition, my father may not wish to see me married just yet, we have always been quite close, you see."

"Your uncle said as much to me last night."

"You spoke with my uncle?"

"As he is presently your guardian, I asked him permission to court you last night, conditional permission, I suppose, before I can go to Hertfordshire and speak with your father."

"This was before you heard your cousin's objections, then?"

"No, I had already spoken with Richard at some length, but I had also determined that I do not care. At any rate, your uncle denied me permission. He feels that we would not be well-suited and suggested that I be on my way before I do any further harm to your reputation or to your spirits."

"Yet here you are."

"Here I am, Lizzy. I have given it much thought and have come to a realization. I will be unable to court you when we return to England."

Despite the fact that she saw the logic of such a decision and had come to the same conclusion herself, Elizabeth's heart broke at the revelation. She saw for the first time, that Dionysus had fully packed saddlebags and Darcy was dressed in travelling clothes.

"You are off then, this morning, Sir?" Her voice shook with the effort to hold back tears.

"I am, and I beseech you to accompany me."

Elizabeth took several deep breaths, trying to understand him before she looked curiously into his eyes. "I am afraid that I do not comprehend your meaning, Mr. Darcy."

"Please my love, call me by my Christian name, I never wish to have such formality between us." At her furrowed brow he explained his plan. "If my father and yours will be, as our relations insist, determined to prevent our courtship, we shall have a difficult time being married in England. Were we in London, I would suggest we dash north to Gretna Green, but as we are already in Scotland . . ." He trailed off suggestively and was pleased to see the spark return to her eyes as she correctly inferred what he left unsaid.

"You mean for us to marry here, before we return?"

"If we present our marriage as a fait accompli, there is nothing they can do to stop us. A Scottish marriage is valid in England and here we do not require your father's consent."

"You wish us to declare ourselves before a blacksmith?" Elizabeth smiled, recalling stories of such weddings. Even clergy was not necessary in this place if all she had heard was true.

"Well, I suppose that is an option, but I was thinking that we could visit a church instead. I shall marry you any manner that I can, of course, but I prefer our union to be properly sanctioned before God if at all possible."

Her response was to throw her arms about his neck and kiss him squarely on the lips. "I will! I will marry you Fitzwilliam, whether before an altar or an anvil, I want nothing more than to be your wife."

"I know that you deserve more of a courtship, Elizabeth. A fortnight of walks followed by weeks of longing and one short reunion are hardly what you must have anticipated as inducement to matrimony, but I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy married to me."

"I cannot imagine ever regretting such a decision. I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

He kissed Elizabeth once more, then swung her up onto his horse, mounting behind her and wrapping an arm securely about her waist. They headed south, towards England, expecting that they could find some place to be married that very day.

Several hours later, they spotted an inn which seemed adequate for their needs. It appeared to be clean an in good repair. Darcy turned Dionysus over to the stable boy and inquired of the proprietor as to the location of a nearby church. Almost as an afterthought, he also asked where he might obtain a piece of jewellery in the small town. Before long, gold wedding ring in hand, the pair stood in front of a minister and his wife to exchange their vows.

It was only mid-afternoon when they exited the church hand-in-hand, both trembling a bit with the anticipation of what was to come. They agreed that they should spend the beautiful day out of doors and were able to procure a picnic basket from the cook at the inn. The kindly woman have even provided the happy couple with a bit of fruitcake to celebrate their marriage.

Darcy took the basket in one arm and held Elizabeth close with the other as they headed in the direction that innkeeper had suggested would afford them the most privacy. They spent their time happily, feeding each other bits of food and sharing playful kisses. Eventually, the food was gone and the kissing turned more passionate as they both learned what felt good together. They were reclining on the blanket in the grass as dusk began to fall, one of Darcy's hands delved beneath his wife's dress and was stroking her legs over her stockings. His other hand was tangled in her hair, holding her to him as they kissed. Her bonnet, long since discarded, acted as a receptacle for hairpins beside the picnic basket.

His excitement growing, Darcy began to fear that he would embarrass himself. Still, unable to help himself, he pressed his body fully against Elizabeth, moving his still contained manhood against the apex of her thighs through layers of clothing. Whimpers of what he was sure was pleasure poured forth from her mouth in the moments when it was not pressed against his own. Suddenly, he felt the earth move.

Although he had heard relations described in such a euphemistic way by his peers, Darcy had never expected to actually feel such an event upon the culmination of his marital union; besides, he realized quickly, there had been no culmination, They were both dressed and he was still firm and frustrated. Elizabeth had clearly felt it as well, and now clung to him in fear instead of passion, burying her head against his shoulder as if to shield herself from a coming onslaught. It took Darcy only another moment to realize what had occurred. A veritable herd of deer was racing across the meadow in which they sat, only a few yards from their picnic. The newly-weds feared for a moment that they would be trampled before they could even consummate their vows.

Once the stampede had passed, they both laughed in relief and mutually agreed that it was time to return to the inn.

While Elizabeth went up the stairs to their chamber, Darcy returned the empty picnic basket to the innkeeper and thanked him politely before going to join his new wife. He stood outside the door for a few moments, attempting to collect himself and stop his hands from shaking. It would not do to be as nervous as she was. He, at least, had been told what to do. Not having been able to consult with a married woman beforehand, it occurred to him that Elizabeth was probably entirely innocent to the physical side of marriage. While she had eagerly allowed him to touch her that afternoon, he wondered how she would feel about the actual consummation of their marriage. He hoped that she would find it as pleasant as she did his kisses and prayed silently that there would be no pain for her this night. Although Darcy's cousin had schooled him as thoroughly as possible in the art of a woman's pleasure, the eager bridegroom's knowledge was still theoretical and his understanding of virgins, practically nonexistent. Finally, he collected himself enough to knock on the door and after identifying himself, was bade to enter.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed wearing her corset and petticoat, her hands folded primly on her lap. Her hair was unbound and tumbled freely down her back, as it had the first time saw her. He could see that her hands were trembling a bit, although he was certain that the look on her face spoke more to eager anticipation than fright. Darcy bolted the door and moved into the room. He removed his coat, waistcoat, and cravat under her gaze before sitting next to her and taking her small hands in his large ones. "I love you, Elizabeth, my Lizzy."

"I love you as well, Fitzwilliam." She was glad to have something to say of which she could be certain.

He moved closer to her and placed one arm around her shoulders, keeping the other hand entwined with hers. "Are you cold?" When she shook her head, he asked another question, one to which he was far more likely to receive a positive response. "Are you nervous?" She confirmed his suspicion with a nod and he kissed her temple then whispered in her ear. "I will never ask more of you than you are willing to give." She looked at him curiously and he explained. "If you do not wish to consummate our marriage tonight, I shall not press you. We are still married and as the minister said, no man can put our union asunder; neither your father nor mine. If you prefer, we could court for some time . . ." He trailed off and gazed into her eyes earnestly and Elizabeth could not help but kiss him on the mouth.

"Thank you for being so kind, but I do wish to be your wife in every way, truly. Not only so that it is impossible to have our marriage annulled but also -" She flushed and did not finish the thought. A gentlewoman's upbringing did not include an education in expressing oneself on the subject of carnal relations. "It is only that I am unsure of exactly what the act entails."

"Do you know anything about a marital union?" Although Darcy assumed that nobody would have explained such a thing to a genteel young woman who was not engaged, he also knew his wife to be a great reader blessed (and cursed) with a natural curiosity and hoped she had at least an inkling of what was to come.

"I understand that there can be some pain," she did not look him in the eye, "but also pleasure, which I believe to be more the case, if it is anything like kissing you." The blush that colored her face deepened and spread from her cheeks all the way to her chest. "I do know that this union is what creates a child, although I admit to being unclear as to exactly how it does so. I suspect you know a bit more than I do."

"Having never been married, I can claim only theoretical knowledge regarding marital relations myself, but as gentlemen are generally less sheltered than ladies, I suspect that my limited understanding is still notably greater than yours." He tugged on her corset lace with the hand that was around her back. "May I undress you?"

"In a moment. Would you mind if I put out the lights?" At his nod, she stood, snuffing the two candles that had lit up the room. There was a bright moon that night and the curtains did not fully cover the window. Darcy could see, as she moved about, the shape of her legs through the material of her thin petticoat. Then, she untied that garment's fastenings and let it drop, leaving her legs exposed to mid-thigh where her chemise ended.

Finally, she stood in front of him, and after kissing him chastely, turned around, indicating that he was to unlace her corset, which he rose to do slowly and with much anticipation. Once she was free of her restrictive undergarment, she cast it aside and faced him so that he could appreciate the image of her unbound breasts for the first time. Now, her chemise was all that covered her top half as well, and its flimsy material did nothing to disguise her protruding nipples. Without conscious thought, Darcy reached his hand out to palm one ripe breast, allowing his thumb to brush over her nipple, which drew a gasp from his new wife as she arched toward him. His other hand went to the hem of her only garment, clearly meaning to draw it over her head, but she stopped him with a small hand placed over his.

"No, it is your turn now." Before he could ask what she meant, she was unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. He tossed it in the general direction of her undergarments and began working the fastenings of his own breeches under her anticipatory gaze. It took him longer than he had expected to divest himself of them, for he had not considered his boots and stockings, which clearly ought to have been removed first. He saw his wife smile in amusement at his brief trial and was mildly embarrassed by his lack of grace. Fortunately, he could discern no fear in her eyes, bright, even in the dim chamber. Eventually they looked at each other in the falling dusk, clad in only one garment each. This time, when Darcy attempted to remove his wife's final covering, she was amenable to it, if flustered.

In the darkened room, he could make out her shape, but not her colour. He could tell she blushed only by the heat he felt from her skin as he ran his hands reverently over her body. He also felt her shiver and he wondered aloud again if it was from cold. After she had assured him it was not, Elizabeth reached for his own last vestige of clothing and it was Darcy's turn to be discomfited. He knew that the drawers he wore did nothing to disguise his excitement and his erection was jutting out in what he knew could, to a virgin such as his wife, be a frightening manner. She did struggle a bit to remove his undergarment, finally allowing him to help her do so. Her unsure hands touching him in such a manner only served to excite Darcy further, and she jumped a bit when his manhood twitched against her palm.

Finally, the newly-weds stood nude before each other, barely visible in the last vestiges of daylight, each wondering what ought to be done next. Darcy knew that it was his prerogative to take the initiative and led his wife the few steps to the bed, encouraging her to recline upon the sheets from which he had drawn back the counterpane. He lay next to her and began by kissing one smooth cheek followed by her lips. Elizabeth opened her mouth to him and his tongue slid against her own, kissing her more deeply than he ever had before. She clutched at his shoulders and he felt sure that she was enjoying herself thus far. He recalled the advice he had received from his cousin and allowed his hands to touch her, starting with her waist, but soon drifting to her bosom, then bottom as well, lifting her slightly to gain access. She allowed this touching without any indication of fear, but when one hand began to caress her hip, then stroke toward the apex of her thighs, he could feel her muscles tighten beneath his palm. Determined to continue as long as she would allow it, he stroked over the curls between her legs with tentative touches of his fingertips, still kissing her earnestly. With a persistent hand, he managed to coax her legs apart and let his fingers stroke between her nether lips.

This sensation proved too much for the blushing bride and she clamped her legs shut, effectively trapping his hand in place as she pulled her face away from his and cried "oh!"

"Are you alright, Lizzy?" His voice was no more than a husky whisper.

"It just feels so strange."

"In a good way or a bad way, my love?"

She considered for a moment, pressing her lips together in a firm line before responding. "A good way, I suppose. It is only so embarrassing to think of a man touching me in such a place."

"I am not any man though, darling, I am your husband."

The reminder made Elizabeth smile and she nodded slowly. "You may proceed." She relaxed enough to allow his hand to withdraw from its delightful prison.

Looking into her eyes to be sure that she meant it, Darcy sat up and began kissing her again on her lips, but only briefly before he kissed down her throat and across each of her breasts, causing her to moan in pleasure when he licked each nipple in turn. Her legs parted enough for him to probe between them again. He felt a wetness, which aided his exploration. He discovered the passageway he soon hoped to traverse and she cried out sharply when he delved shallowly inside with a finger. He studied her face for a moment before continuing, but determined that her expression was one of bliss rather than pain and continued searching in her folds until he found the small protrusion about which he had been told. If he harboured any doubt that Richard had been correct about the power of this button of flesh, they disappeared when Elizabeth's entire body bucked the first time he touched it.

He stroked her newly discovered pleasure centre slowly and gently as he suckled first one nipple than another. She was thrashing about as if in a fit, but was still sensible enough to know what she wanted. Grabbing her husband's head between her hands, Elizabeth dragged it toward hers for a mutual kiss. This sudden movement pulled him on top of her and his erection, woefully neglected, but harder than ever was within striking distance of its ultimate goal.

"Lizzy, are you ready?" He managed to gasp against her mouth. She had no idea what he was really asking, but agreed hurriedly, afraid that the amazing sensations would cease if she did not. As he held the top half of his body up off of his wife, he encouraged her to spread her legs widely enough for his hips to be cradled between them and began pressing forward into her. As he moved ahead, she stopped kissing him and whimpered, he could tell that this time it was not pleasure, but discomfort that caused her to make such a sound. "Are you all right?" He panted, "Do you need me to stop?" He prayed that she would not say yes while steeling himself for the possibility.

"No, I want to be your wife, Fitzwilliam, truly." He kissed her deeply and thrust forward, breaking through her barrier and causing her whole body to stiffen in response. He stayed still for a moment, concentrating on the woman beneath him, not moving again until she began kissing him back and shifting her hips ever so slightly. Darcy had never felt anything so exquisite before that moment with his wife. She was warm, wet, and tight on every inch of his long-deprived manhood. He moved in her with long, slow strokes. He had never been so excited in his life, but wanted desperately for Elizabeth to experience the pleasure that he had been told that she could. As he felt his climax nearly upon him, Darcy recollected once again the advice he had been given and, leaning all his weight on one arm, used his other hand to touch her just above where they were joined. The movements of his hips became erratic and her moans increased as he tore his mouth from Elizabeth's in order to whisper words of love into her ear. Suddenly she let out a wordless scream and he felt her already tight walls pulse around his flesh. It was all he could do not to fall on top of her as he called her name in delight with his own release. No longer able to hold himself up, Darcy removed himself from his wife and rolled to his side. He looked back at her and noticed her eyes had filled with tears.

"Elizabeth!" He sat up, terrified that he had hurt her. "Are you all right?" He pulled her into his arms and rocked slowly back and forth. "Lizzy, please talk to me."

"I am sorry to frighten you," she sniffed, clearly overcome with emotion, "that was the most beautiful thing I have ever felt and I love you so much."

"I know that I hurt you." He lifted her into his lap and in the feeble moonlight could discern a small dark stain on the sheets beneath where she had lain. "Should I call a doctor?"

"No!" She was adamant and clung to him fiercely. "I am not distressed, I have never been happier in my life, it is just -" she had no other way to explain how she felt, "I love you."

"I love you too, Lizzy. Shall we go to bed?"

"We are in bed." Her weak teasing made him smile broadly.

"That is true, I suppose. Shall we go to sleep then, my love?"

"Yes, Fitzwilliam, I think that would be best." Her tears had slowed and she looked at him with naked emotion in her eyes. Without letting go of each other, they managed to settle between the sheets and pull the counterpane up to shield them from the brisk night air.

"Lizzy, my Lizzy, my wife." Darcy murmured kissing her hair as he stroked her back.

"Always yours. And you are mine?" She sounded vulnerable and he assured her that she was correct. "My husband, my Fitz," was the last thing she said before falling asleep in his embrace.


	7. Chapter 6: Discovered

Darcy and Elizabeth had long since made their flight before their companions noticed their absence. At first, Mrs. Gardiner allowed some leeway for her distraught niece and assumed her to be merely moping in her own chambers, but once the sun was high in the sky, she insisted on entering the room herself and was shocked to find it empty of its occupant, although nothing else seemed to be disturbed. As she flew about the inn in distress, she encountered Fitzwilliam, who appeared to be equally concerned regarding the whereabouts of his cousin. This was not because he thought the gentleman was incapable of taking care of himself, but rather because it seemed that Darcy had taken all of his things, leaving enough money with the innkeeper to pay for their stay. Upon hearing that Elizabeth was missing as well, Fitzwilliam was able to surmise that they had left together, which only further disconcerted Mrs. Gardiner.

The young man began to make inquiries while a message was sent to Mr. Gardiner at the mill. When the businessman arrived at the inn, he found his party's things packed and in the carriage. Once he heard all about the situation, he turned quite angrily to Fitzwilliam and demanded to know the location of his niece.

"Why would I know? I am as much in the dark as the pair of you!" The younger man insisted.

"You must know something about where he took her. Tell me, does your esteemed cousin make a habit of kidnapping the daughters of respectable gentlemen?"

"Kidnapping? Do not be ridiculous, perhaps they eloped, but -"

"Ridiculous! Do you not see the facts? He clearly prepared to leave, planned his departure but Elizabeth was taken by surprise. She took no additional clothing; she does not even have the book she was reading or her letters from her family. It is evident to me that my niece did not leave of her own volition. He has taken her by force, I am sure of it. Never before have I so misjudged a man. I admit, I thought him not suited to Lizzy, but hardly violent." He was shaking with rage.

"You do not know my cousin, he is an honourable man. I have never before seen him behave in such a manner. Frankly, I think it more likely that Miss Bennet has seduced him, causing him to act in this uncharacteristic manner." Mr. Gardiner responded to this suggestion by punching the younger man in his gut. Staggering back, Fitzwilliam clenched his fists, ready to strike out in response, when he saw Mrs. Gardiner grabbing at her husband's arms.

"Stop it! Stop it both of you. No matter whose idea this flight was, we all have a vested interest in finding them. I suggest we work together until we can discover them and talk to both Lizzy and Mr. Darcy." She turned to her husband. "Mr. Fitzwilliam has found a witness who claims to have seen a man and woman matching their description riding south-east. I suggest we follow the same road in the hopes of arriving at their destination."

With another glare at the cousin of his niece's kidnapper, Mr. Gardiner acquiesced and handed his wife into their carriage before climbing in after her. Fitzwilliam mounted his horse and the strange party was off.

They made several inquiries along the way, asking at every inn, stable, or possible stop. Occasionally people reported having seen a man and a woman travelling together on one horse; nobody claimed to have seen the woman struggle. Darcy and Elizabeth appeared to be keeping to the main road, a bad idea if they were truly trying to flee. Their pursuers were unsure what exactly to make of that information, but they pressed ahead. Finally, in a town some fifteen miles from the English border, the band of travellers heard a different tale from the witness they questioned. No longer had passers-by seen the pair on the road; here, they were reported to have gone into an inn.

By this time, it had grown quite dark, and the trio knew that even if their prey was not in this town, they would need rooms for the night. Fortunately, the innkeeper admitted to having seen a couple matching the description they gave, but was unwilling to give them any further information until a healthy bribe was in his hand. Soon Fitzwilliam was upstairs and pounding on a door, the Gardiners close behind him.

Darcy came awake to a loud noise of some kind. He blinked in confusion, trying to take in the unfamiliar surroundings, which was difficult in the nearly pitch black room. The person next to him shifted, and he had a moment of confusion before the previous day came back to him in a rush. Suddenly his nudity made sense. He stroked his hand down the equally naked body of the woman with whom he shared the bed and smiled at her sleepy but pleased moan.

"Fitzwilliam, is it morning already?" She snuggled deeper into his embrace, not yet ready to open her eyes and face the world.

"I do not think so, my love, it is quite dark, I cannot imagine that we have been sleeping for very long at all. I do not know what it is that woke us, perhaps there is some trouble downstairs." He considered getting up to see what was the matter, but was loath to leave the most comfortable position in which he had ever found himself.

The noise returned. This time, they were both alert enough to realize that it was an insistent knocking on their own chamber door. Darcy sighed in annoyance. "Who is it?"

"Darcy, I know you are in there, open the door!"

Elizabeth's eyes popped open and she sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. "Is that your cousin?"

"I shall get rid of him, my love." Her husband responded softly, then turned toward the door and bellowed. "I will see you in the morning, Richard."

"You will see me now, Darcy, or I will break down this door." He pounded one more time to drive his point home.

"I think he is serious, Lizzy, I suppose I will have to go, but do not be concerned, I promise to be back momentarily." He stood and faced the door, speaking loudly once again. "Give me some time, cousin, I am not fit for company."

"You have three minutes." There was a warning tone in Fitzwilliam's voice.

Darcy brought Elizabeth her chemise then quickly donned his drawers, breeches, and shirt. He dug through his luggage for a moment and came up with his dressing gown, which he also handed to his wife. She put on the garment, practically swimming in its folds and looked up at him quizzically as if asking for a command or suggestion. Darcy kissed her on the crown of her head, then drew the bed curtains closed so that she was hidden from view before making his way to the door, from which heavy knocking had once again begun to resound.

He unlocked and opened the door. "What could you possibly -" The words caught in his throat when he saw who was standing behind his cousin. Suddenly Darcy found himself held by the throat as Mr. Gardiner shoved him against the open door.

"What have you done with my niece?" The shorter man demanded. Darcy might have thought he could easily get away were it not for Mr. Gardiner's righteous anger. He was considering whether it would be best to tell the truth or deny all knowledge of Elizabeth's whereabouts, when the lady in question gave herself up by peeking out from between the bed curtains.

"Uncle Gardiner?" She asked in confusion.

"Oh, Lizzy!" Her aunt ran into the room and joined her on the bed, allowing the curtains to fall back into place to shield them from the gentlemen.

"Miss Bennet is here, sharing your chamber?" Fitzwilliam asked incredulously.

"No, that is not quite the case."

"Darcy, do not try to lie, I both saw and heard the lady."

"There is nobody here by that name, Richard."

"Explain yourself." Mr. Gardiner had no patience for games.

"She is Mrs. Darcy now."

"You blackguard! First, you dare to kidnap my niece under my very nose, and now you tell me that you have married her without her family's consent." He heard a sob from behind the curtains of the bed. "She is clearly upset at what you have done to her. If I only had a sword, I would run you through for your behaviour."

Hearing Elizabeth's distress allowed Darcy to thoroughly ignore all else that was happening in the room. He threw off his attacker and rushed toward the bed in which he had so recently been sleeping in an attempt to comfort his wife. "Lizzy!" He cried out, anguished at the thought of her unhappiness.

Mrs. Gardiner stood to block his path and ordered all the men from the room. Darcy left only after receiving a nod from his wife, a small reassurance that she would be fine without him.

The gentlemen retired to the room next door, which Fitzwilliam had rented for his own use, and recommenced their argument.

"What on earth possessed you to kidnap Elizabeth?" Mr. Gardiner was livid.

"I did not kidnap her, she came with me willingly."

"It is not in her character to disregard propriety and good sense in such a manner."

"It is not like Darcy either." Fitzwilliam felt the need to interrupt, reintroducing his earlier hypothesis. "Perhaps he was seduced."

Darcy turned to glare at him menacingly and beat Mr. Gardiner to the task of defending Elizabeth's character. "Elizabeth is a genteel, principled young woman. Do not dare disparage her!"

"We are back to kidnapping then." Mr. Gardiner was not willing to budge despite Darcy's angry and hurt expression. "The facts, as I see them, are that a man packed his things and left town, taking with him a young woman who had only the clothes upon her back. Elizabeth would never have voluntarily left without a farewell and time to gather her things."

"We did not plan to leave forever, we were to return on the morrow. We planned to acquaint you all with our marriage before returning to England to tell our immediate families the good news."

"I had heard that you were an honourable man, Darcy, but here you are, whisking off a girl to be wed without consulting her guardian, then doing the Lord only knows what to her, she was clearly in distress."

"She was in distress due to the present situation. Before you all arrived, she was quite content with our marriage, I am sure that she will tell her aunt as much now that you are no longer there to frighten her." He fixed his cousin with a stern expression, clearly blaming him for the bulk of Elizabeth's fear. He turned back to Mr. Gardiner and adopted a genuinely contrite look. "I am sorry, Sir, that my elopement with your niece upset you, but we truly felt there was no other way. You both seemed so certain that we would not be allowed even to court upon our return home and I could not imagine my life without Elizabeth. I begged her to come with me, yes, but I never forced her. I feared that if I did not marry her now, while we were both on Scottish soil, I would never have the opportunity. She is now my wife in the eyes of God and the law. Consequently, no man can take her from me again."

Fitzwilliam saw the whole business as ridiculous and, as he could not absolve his cousin of fault, allowed that the situation affected him hardly at all and chose to let the others argue amongst themselves as he listened silently. The true, but unspoken, disagreement seemed to be over who loved Elizabeth more and was best able to protect her. Eventually, they came to a tentative truce that was contingent, Mr. Gardiner insisted, on Elizabeth's own testimony as to her well-being after her harrowing ordeal.

In the enclosed bed, Mrs. Gardiner was also thinking the worst of Darcy. She held her trembling niece in her arms as they listened to the loud argument, letting her go only to eject the men. When they were left alone, she drew aside the bed curtains and lit a few candles so that she could better see the situation. She took in the stained sheet just visible in the candlelight that came through the drapes and the new bride's tear-stained face and asked a difficult question. "Did he force himself upon you?"

"Oh no, Aunt, you must not think that."

"Did he bring you here against your will?"

Elizabeth denied that charge on Darcy's behalf as well and explained to her aunt their reasons for eloping. She admitted regret at being married without her family present, but not at being married to Darcy. She swore that their love for each other was the overwhelming reason for their flight and that she been unduly coerced neither to leave with him nor to consummate their vows.

"My poor dear, did he hurt you?"

"He would never hurt me, he loves me."

"I know, Lizzy," and although she disapproved, she did believe it, "but to come to your marriage bed as unprepared as you must have been. I wish I had been able to talk to you first." Both women blushed at the topic of conversation. "Were you terribly frightened? I do hope that he was gentle, at least."

"He was, he is a good man who loves me. It was frightening at first and I was nervous, but so was Fitzwilliam and although there was a little pain," Elizabeth's blush deepened, "it was quite pleasant." She spoke these last few words so closely together that Mrs. Gardiner almost could not discern their meaning.

Once she did, however, the older woman smiled and teased her niece. "So, you are a wise married woman now and have no questions for your dear aunt?"

"I admit that I was wondering . . . will there always be pain when he – I mean when we . . ." She wanted to know the answer, but was mortified to ask the question.

"There should not be, now that you are no longer a maiden. Do remember though, if you find his actions unpleasant in any way, you must tell your husband, if he loves you he will care deeply about your comfort." The two women embraced, then rose so that Elizabeth could dress before they joined the gentlemen.

They tried first the chamber to which the Gardiners' things had been brought, but having no luck there, knocked on the door of Fitzwilliam's chamber. The moment they walked through the door, Elizabeth was engulfed in her husband's arms. Mr. Gardiner moved forward as if to stop him, but was arrested by a look from his wife.

"My apologies, Lizzy," Darcy murmured in her ear, "this is not quite the wedding night I had envisioned."

Eventually, Mr. Gardiner was convinced that Elizabeth had not been abducted, but he adamantly refused to admit that she had not been seduced. He did agree that there was nothing now to be done, for the marriage seemed to be binding, which was really for the best given the way they had been found. The party agreed to wait a few days while he concluded his business, then travel to England together to inform both families of the union. Darcy offered his horse as a means of transportation for the tradesman, as he was an excellent mount and could deliver Mr. Gardiner to the mill in half the time it would take a carriage. The older man agreed, partially for the convenience and partially to prevent his niece's further flight, which would certainly be impeded by lack of a steed. Darcy left the room to give instructions to the innkeeper.

The Gardiners had brought along Elizabeth's trunk as well as their own things, not knowing how far they would have to go in pursuit of her, and called to have it brought up. Darcy fetched it himself, the lateness of the hour causing a dearth of available servants. Mr. Gardiner offered to rent another room for Elizabeth's exclusive use. She thanked him but insisted that her place was with her husband and kissed her defeated uncle on the cheek, taking time to reassure him once more of her well-being before returning to her nuptial chamber to await her husband and her trunk.

She had no need to wait, her husband was sitting on the bed when she entered. After locking the door, she went immediately to his side, where he wrapped his arms around her once again.

"Oh, Lizzy, I am sorry I took you away from your family."

"You are my family now." She looked up at him, apprehension apparent on her face. "Do you have regrets about our marriage?"

"Only that it was not the celebration you deserve. Marrying you, becoming your husband, is the wisest decision I have ever made."

Elizabeth yawned and leaned against his chest, reminding him that it was late at night, and they very much needed to go back to sleep. She put up no resistance as he undressed her and shook her head when he asked whether she desired a nightgown from her trunk. When Darcy was done, she removed her own chemise, blushing when he looked her way before she climbed between the sheets. Taking his cue from his wife, Darcy undressed completely as well and once he got into bed, drew her towards him so that they could sleep intertwined as they had been when the rude awakening had come.

Predictably, they slept late the next morning. The sun streamed through the thin window coverings and warmed the room. When Darcy opened his eyes, he saw his wife already alert and staring intently at his person, or as much of it as had come uncovered during the night.

"How long have you been awake, my love?" He craned his neck to kiss her.

"Not long. Oh, you are scratchy." Instead of pulling away though, she nuzzled her face against his own. Although she was partially sitting, their bodies were pressed quite close together and she could feel his morning pride stirring against her leg. She stroked his bare chest with her hand, lightly toying with the sparse hair that covered it. "May I see you?" She flushed slightly with the question, but her eyes were steady with determination.

Darcy did not respond verbally, but instead drew the covers back from his body, baring her own as a consequence. Elizabeth's hands went up automatically to cover her nudity, but she forced herself to let them drop, realizing that he might wish to see her as well. She rose up to her knees for a better vantage point and ran her hands down his chest, stopping when she reached his navel. He groaned and reached for her, grabbing her about the waist and pulling her on top of him. After some shifting about, Elizabeth found herself straddling her husband's thighs only inches from his erect member. His hands did not remain in place at her waist, but stroked from shoulders to buttocks, causing her to gasp and shudder slightly with pleasure.

With one hand still resting on his abdomen, Elizabeth tentatively reached out to touch his manhood, it pulsed under her fingers and she drew back in surprise, but he took her hand in his own and gently led her back to it. It was soft yet firm and surprisingly hot, which fascinated her, and she wet her finger with the drop of liquid that had appeared at its tip, eliciting a deep groan, which she felt reverberating throughout the body beneath her. "Fitzwilliam, are you all right?"

"Please, Lizzy." He begged, but she did not know for what. He stroked her lower lips, and his fingers came away quite slick, which he knew to be an indication that she was as excited as he. "May we be together again?"

"As husband and wife?" Elizabeth knew what he was asking, but did not know quite how to respond, so only nodded in acquiescence. She was feeling the stirring in her belly that had come before. Realizing that she had the same desire as her husband, she attempted to lie down on the bed so that he could take her as he had the night before, but strong hands on her hips stayed her movement.

Practically speaking, Darcy was as unfamiliar with the art of love as his mostly innocent wife, but something deep inside of him, combined with a memory of crude illustrations, knew what to do. He lifted Elizabeth and brought her forward far enough that she could be lowered onto his ready mast. She let out a squeak of surprise that turned into a low moan of pleasure as she slid down his length. There was silence for a long moment as she stared at him, wide-eyed before she asked what it was she ought to do.

"Whatever feels right, I suppose."

Elizabeth thought about this only briefly before she began to move over him. He felt every tiny shift of her hips and watched, mesmerized, as her bosom shook with her effort. He darted a glance at her face and saw that while her eyes were still open, they were glazed over and unfocused. She began to moan softly as she tentatively moved atop him, experimenting with varied motions, although none were particularly bold. Still, it was not long before he felt her internal muscles squeezing him rhythmically as she called out "Oh, Fitz, oh my, Fitzwilliam!" She shouted his name as she collapsed forward, her hair tickling his chest. This last stimulation was all he needed to reach his own pinnacle and he thrust upward and proclaimed his love.

They clung to each other for several minutes as they calmed down, after which Elizabeth insisted upon having a bath before facing their relations again. Darcy called a maid to prepare a tub then waited patiently for Elizabeth to finish, holding a newspaper in front of himself and pretending to read as he instead pictured his wife's delectable form dripping with water from the tub. The maid must have helped her dress as well, because she arrived back in their room, fully corseted and clad to inform him that it was his turn to wash before she kissed him and went downstairs alone.


	8. Chapter 7: Married

Elizabeth's aunt was reading a book in the garden of the inn. She waved at her niece and watched her approach carefully. Although the young woman was smiling and appeared generally happy, Mrs. Gardiner could not help but notice that she walked gingerly, if only a bit so.

"How are you feeling this morning, Lizzy?"

"I am doing quite well, thank you. Where is my uncle today?"

"He has returned to the mill to finish his business." Elizabeth was ashamed at her relief to hear of his absence; she was genuinely fond of her uncle but had been afraid to face him after the unpleasant scene of the night before. "I expect his return before the week is out, then we can return home. Shall we go for a walk, or would you rather sit?"

"I think perhaps I would like to sit, I am not feeling quite equal to exercise today, if you do not mind."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled and patted her abdomen which, beneath her dress, did not yet appear to be any larger than usual. "Your future cousin agrees with you, but may I ask what is wrong? You told me last night that you were not hurt, but you do not seem quite yourself this morning."

"I am not hurt exactly, only a bit sore. I thought it at first it might be from travelling, I am not used to riding for so long, but I now suspect another cause, and I think you may as well" As the flush crept up Elizabeth's cheeks, it occurred to her that she had been blushing more often than not over the past twenty-four hours.

After looking around to make sure that they were truly alone, Mrs. Gardiner answered her niece. "Marital relations are not entirely unlike horseback riding." Elizabeth's eyes went wide as her blush deepened and spread. Was is possible for her aunt to know what she had done that morning, sitting astride her husband? She relaxed a bit as the explanation continued. "What I mean is that you are using muscles that are not used for other activities."

"I see," was all Elizabeth was able to say in response.

"Although as his wife, you must accommodate him to an extent, do not be afraid to tell Mr. Darcy if you do not feel comfortable having relations. Despite what your uncle seems to think of him at the moment, I can tell that your husband cares for you very deeply."

"Is it not my duty to allow him to, ah, have his way with me?" Elizabeth felt guilty for the relief that engulfed her at the prospect of having this awkward conversation with this particular aunt instead of with her mother. "Obedience is one thing that I promised to him before God just yesterday."

"What happens behind the doors of your bedchamber is between you, your husband, and God. While you must respect him and obey him in general, he ought to respect you as well; it is his responsibility to keep you safe and happy."

"What if I am happy, being with him I mean. Is it wrong to . . ." She had no idea how to phrase her next question without sounding like a complete wanton.

Fortunately, her question was understood, even without all of the words. "There is no sin in enjoying yourself, Lizzy, as long as it is with your husband." Her assurance calmed the new bride. She answered several more questions for her niece who was curious about a great many things to do with marriage and even pregnancy.

While his wife was conferring with her aunt, Darcy met his cousin for their own talk.

"Well, Darcy, you are certainly a man now."

"Whatever do you mean by that?"

"I heard you this morning, or rather I heard the new Mrs. Darcy. You seem to have learned well that which I taught you."

Darcy turned red, though whether with embarrassment or anger, Fitzwilliam was unsure. "I do not know to what you refer."

"Listen, cousin, it is better to hear this from me than from her uncle. The walls here are rather thin - and the floors for that matter; I was in the room directly beside yours. Although I am pleased that you are able to satisfy your wife so well already, I thought you ought to know the situation."

"Thank you." The other man said gruffly, indicating that the subject was to be dropped.

Fitzwilliam segued into a related topic. "What on earth possessed you to marry the girl now?"

"You, among other things." At his cousin's furrowed brow, Darcy explained. "You pointed out, correctly I fear, how unlikely my father was to accept Elizabeth as my choice. You were right to assume that he would have other expectations for my marriage. In fact, he has mentioned before to me the débuts of the daughters of his friends, ladies with dowries of twenty or thirty thousand pounds, some with titles. I do not believe he expected me to marry any of them just yet, however as he thinks I ought to mature some before marriage. At least that is the excuse he gave to Aunt Catherine."

"Aunt Catherine, I had completely forgotten about her in the excitement last night. She will be livid that you married a woman other than her Anne. My own parents will not be best pleased either. My father would not admit it, but I suspect he had hoped that your marriage might ally him with some powerful member of the House of Lords. You know how he likes to have influence."

"I would never have married to please him, even had I not fallen in love with Elizabeth. I am nobody's pawn."

"You are Miss Benn – Mrs. Darcy's pawn."

"I beg your pardon?" Darcy suspected his cousin's meaning, but forced him to state it clearly.

"She seduced you, Darcy. Do you not see?"

"That is patently untrue. How dare you disparage my wife!" His hand clenched into fists at his sides.

"I understand that you love her but Darcy, do be reasonable. You must realize that the woman has caused you to act in an entirely uncharacteristic manner. How can I think anything else?"

"It is not her – well, it is in a way, but Elizabeth has made me do nothing; love has. She has acted in an uncharacteristic manner as well."

"How do you know that?"

"It is hardly as if she elopes with gentlemen every day of the week, now is it?"

Fitzwilliam looked for a moment as though he might respond to the question, but wisely chose against it, deciding instead to invite his cousin fishing so they could cease talking altogether.

It was not until teatime that the newly-weds saw each other again. Darcy had missed his wife immensely, but knew that she needed time alone with her aunt, and had busied himself so as not to think about the time he was missing with Elizabeth. Unfortunately, his tactic failed, for there are few activities that allow so much time for thought as fishing. When he encountered her again in the afternoon, he kissed her hand graciously and invited her on a walk.

They discussed, as they strolled, their future life. Darcy was sure that Elizabeth would love Pemberley, with its wild, natural surroundings and exquisite park. Elizabeth allowed that Longbourn was lacking in many ways, but it was the only home she had ever known and she would quite miss it. He reminded her that the easy distance from London to her family home ensured many future visits, as they were likely to spend the season in town, although he would need to spend significant time with his father on the estate learning about its management now that he was an educated man.

"I often wished as a child that I could go to school."

"You would have done marvellously at school, Lizzy. You are the cleverest woman I have ever met."

"You cannot have met many women then, if your standards are so low. Next, you shall pronounce me accomplished!" She laughed and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"I have no doubt that you are, my love. What are the common accomplishments? I am sure you are superlative in every art."

"I fear you are mistaken, Sir." He punished her formal address with a kiss that made her smile. "Although I am familiar with the required dances and have been taught to play the pianoforte, I excel at neither. If I were to draw something, it would bear no resemblance at all to the model. I am only a passable singer and both my French and German are lacking in the finer points of grammar. I speak not a word of Spanish or Italian. Although I can both knit and embroider, neither is a pastime I enjoy well enough to hone and I must admit that I have never in my life covered a screen nor netted a single purse."

"As my wife, you shall have access to any masters you feel might improve upon your accomplishments. Or, you might spend your time improving at the most important accomplishment of all."

"Oh, and what is that?"

"Pleasing your husband."

Elizabeth blushed, feeling both flirtatious and unsure of herself. "Is my performance in this area deficient, Fitzwilliam?"

"On the contrary my dear, I cannot imagine anyone more accomplished, but you would not like your skills to fade and therefore must practice diligently." He kissed her, softly at first, then more deeply, backing her up against a large tree. The kissing continued for several minutes, and she felt the unmistakable outline of his arousal against her stomach before he reluctantly pulled away, but only far enough that their bodies were barely touching.

"You must not worry about offending my girlish sensibilities, I fear that I lost those with my maiden name." She laughed playfully although her light blush indicated that such feelings were not entirely a thing of the past.

"I should hope so, it is only that this is hardly the place for such an endeavour."

"Fitzwilliam, may I ask you a question." She could not meet his eyes.

"Anything, my love."

"I saw you this morning, without your breeches . . ."

"So you now know what is under them." He thrust his hips slightly forward for emphasis, colliding with her.

"Yes, well, that is my question, in a way. How does it fit?" He asked her to explain her query further. "I mean that it is perpendicular to your body, but I do not understand how your breeches allow for that." She was genuinely curious and trusted her husband not to mock her inquisitiveness. Still, she reddened with embarrassment at the question.

"Oh, Lizzy, it is not always like this. Sometimes it is flaccid and hangs downward." He enjoyed both shocking and educating her in one breath.

"Really, why?"

"When it is not needed, it makes it easier to dress. However, you are unlikely to often see it thus."

"Why?"

"It protrudes, as you have seen, when I am enamoured of a woman and recedes only after it has been satisfied or otherwise quashed in some manner."

"Does it protrude often?"

"Constantly since I met you."

"Fitzwilliam!" She admonished with a laugh.

"Oh, Lizzy, certainly you must know that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met."

"That tells me only that you have not met many women."

He looked at her incredulously. "Do you truly not realize how beautiful you are? Your mother has indeed done you a disservice."

"I know that I am pretty enough, and you are such a gentleman as to repeat it for me, but you have yet to meet my sister, Jane. She is far more handsome than I. Perhaps you will regret marrying me when you meet her." Elizabeth fiddled with her hands a bit, unable to meet her husband's eyes. She trusted that he loved her however years of being reminded that she was not as beautiful as the eldest Bennet daughter had taken quite a toll.

"There is nothing in this world that could make me regret marrying you, Lizzy. We have been wed less than twenty-four hours and already you are the light of my life. I cannot imagine a woman more beautiful than you, and even if she were to exist, she would not possess your spirit, your cleverness, or your heart and therefore could be no threat to your utter superiority."

She took his arm leaned her head against his shoulder as they began walking back to the inn. "I love you, Fitz." He held her close in response.

They dined that evening with Mrs. Gardiner and Fitzwilliam, the latter of whom announced his impending departure on the morrow. He explained that he wished to spend some time with his family before would take up his commission in the army and begin training.

Darcy understood, but made one request. "Please do not tell your parents of my marriage." Elizabeth looked at him quizzically and he explained. "I wish to inform my closest relations myself. Also, I am sure you are aware of the speed at which news can travel, and I feel that we should inform my father of our union in person. Therefore, until we arrive at Pemberley, none of our other acquaintance can be made aware."

"I see your point Darcy, I shall do as you ask."

"Thank you Richard, I wish you a good journey."

They all bade each other a good night and retired to their respective rooms.

Once in the dressing room, Elizabeth was grateful to have her own luggage once again. She prepared for bed and debated putting on a nightgown. Finally she decided that he was so likely to remove it, she might as well forgo the garment altogether. Wrapping herself only in her dressing gown, she entered the bedroom to find her husband sitting on the bed, reading. He smiled at her approach and kissed her temple before going into the dressing room to ready himself for bed as well.

Like his wife, Darcy also considered for a moment donning his habitual nightwear, but decided against it, he could always put something on later if he offended her sensibilities, but given their mutual behaviour that morning, he thought it unlikely. A smile crept over his face at the mere thought and he hurried back to his wife, clad in his own dressing gown.

She was now sitting on the bed, fiddling with the ties at her waist, she looked up nervously at his approach. "I am afraid that despite an enlightening conversation with my aunt today, I still do not know how to do this."

"Do what, Lizzy?"

"Be married."

He laughed and joined her on the bed. "I know as little as you, less even, for I have no wise, married relative to guide me at the moment. I suppose we ought to just decide together what we wish." He pulled her hands away from her belt and with a twitch of his finger, loosened the knot, it took very little further movement to untie it completely and as it fell open, he saw the delectable curves of her body exposed in the flickering candlelight. He moved forward slowly and kissed between her breasts, allowing his face to linger and breathe in her scent.

Elizabeth felt a now familiar tingle in response to his touch, which reminded her of the soreness she had felt earlier in the day. "Wait, Fitz."

"Hmm?" He did not lift his head from her bosom until she spoke his name a second time, using all the syllables to get his attention.

"Fitzwilliam!"

"What is the matter, Lizzy?"

"I love you."

"Of course, I love you as well."

"I enjoyed what we did before," she flushed slightly, "lying together as man and wife."

"Mmmm, we can do it again."

"I am not sure that I can." At his alarmed look, she explained. "I mean, I wish to, but I am -" she searched for an appropriate word, "tender and I am unsure as to whether I can accommodate you presently."

Darcy's eyes were full of regret as he pulled back. "I did hurt you! I ought never to have pressed you so this morning."

"You did not press me, we engaged in nothing to which I did not eagerly participate, it is only that I wonder whether I ought to participate again so soon. Besides," she added lightly in an attempt to soothe his conscience, "it is possible that it is merely the horseback ride to which I am unaccustomed that has affected me so and once I return to riding in a carriage, there shall be no problem at all."

"Lizzy, my love, I hope you know that I would never ask you to make yourself uncomfortable on my behalf. May I kiss you?"

"Of course, Fitzwilliam, I believe I would enjoy that." Elizabeth opened her mouth slightly, preparing for a deep kiss like the ones they had enjoyed earlier that day. She was disappointed when he gave her only a fleeting kiss on her lips, but allowed Darcy to take the lead as he saw fit. She trusted him not to hurt her, and put up no resistance when he pushed her gently back to lie on the bed, pulling aside her dressing gown to expose her body.

He kissed down the column of her neck, something he had done before, but of which he was certain he would never tire, then across her breasts, paying special attention to her pebbled nipples as his hands gently rested on his wife's hips. After some time, Darcy pressed his lips between her breasts, as he had earlier, then made a row of kisses straight to her navel, where he briefly swirled his tongue, eliciting a moan from Elizabeth.

He considered asking her to quiet down a bit, but after considering both the relatively distant location of the Gardiners' room and the fact that her uncle was not even in residence, he decided to let it go. After all, it was his cousin's own fault if he could hear them; Fitzwilliam was the one who had told him about this body kissing business.

As his lips travelled lower, Darcy encountered a nest of chestnut curls. He knew they were there, he had felt them previously, but the thought of touching her there with his lips was strange. It felt all at once wrong and terribly exciting. This was a odd place to put his mouth, to be sure, but there was a scent emanating from her that enticed him in a way that he had never before felt. After a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips against her womanhood and drew in a breath, inhaling her essence.

She moaned loudly and finally said something coherent as she supported herself on her elbows. "Oh, Fitz, you cannot mean to kiss me there!"

"Why not?"

"It is not done."

He gave her a rakish sort of smile. "How do you know what is and is not done, Lizzy?"

"I suppose I do not, I only assumed . . . It seems so improper."

Darcy propped himself up as well, enough to look her in the eye, although he did not relinquish his place between her spread legs. "I believe, my love, that there is nothing improper in doing what makes us feel pleasure together. I cannot know what others do behind closed doors in their marriages, and nobody need ever know what occurs in ours. I shall cease if you truly wish it, if it is unpleasant for you; but if you will permit me, I would like to explore what delights still lie undiscovered between us."

"You will stop if I ask?"

"I give you my solemn vow to respect your wishes."

Shyly, she agreed to allow him to continue, and Darcy went back to his position; prone between her thighs, eager, but unsure of what to do next. Gingerly, he extended his tongue and tasted her essence. Elizabeth jumped at the contact, but did not say anything and he was surprised at how much he enjoyed the flavour of her. It was both lemony and musky, unlike anything he could ever have imagined and he felt that he had to have another taste. The second time, she moaned at the feeling. Darcy threw caution to the wind and allowed instinct to guide him as he kissed and licked his wife's most secret place. Her strongest reaction was elicited by the application of his lips or tongue to the button of flesh he had discovered with his fingers the night before and a gentle suckling caused her to arch up off the bed with a shout of his name. He attended to this spot until her thighs quivered and her fingers wove into his hair, holding him captive against her body.

Darcy could tell, from his limited but specific experience, that she was having her pleasure and failed to prevent a proud smile from forming on his lips. As she lay panting, recovering from her satisfying ordeal, he moved to recline next to her. After a few minutes, Elizabeth calmed down and noticed the still erect state of her husband's penis.

Curiously, she reached out to touch it, and he groaned in response. "How do you make it go back to its other shape?"

"What you are doing is one way to go about it, although I do try to abstain from that particular sin, I admit that I cannot always control myself."

She began to draw her hand back at his words, then stopped and replaced it, setting her jaw in determination. "What happens between us as husband and wife is no sin, my aunt reminded me of that earlier today, although I suppose it is inherent in the marriage ceremony – 'to avoid fornication' the vicar said." She looked at him hopefully. "I would like to make you feel the way I did just moments ago. Will you show me how?"

Darcy first kissed her, pouring all his emotion into the act, hoping to make her understand without words how much he appreciated her love and trust. Then, taking her hand in his much larger one, he showed her how he liked to be stroked. Soon, he let go and allowed her to experiment alone and she utilized her other hand as well, multiplying his excitement. Under his wife's unpractised touch, Darcy did not last nearly as long as he had hoped, and soon covered his belly and her lovely fingers with his emission.

Elizabeth was startled by the sudden messiness of her hands and the contraction of what she still held in them. She let go and watched wide-eyed as her husband's manhood retreated to a state that would indeed fit much better in a pair of breeches, then felt the gentleman wiping his spending from her with the edge of the sheet. He removed his open dressing gown, then coaxed hers off as well before they settled into bed and he blew out the candle. They fell asleep, once again wrapped in each other's embrace.


	9. Chapter 8: Back to England

The next morning, Fitzwilliam left at first light. Mrs. Gardiner was feeling energetic, so the three remaining in the party took a long walk together. Darcy genuinely enjoyed the woman's company and was only occasionally resentful of it when he wished to kiss his wife. While the newly-weds were required, due to their audience, to curtail their behaviour, it did not stop their copious flirting. Also, Elizabeth found her hands kissed far more than she was sure was normal, although she certainly did not mind.

Upon their return to the inn that afternoon, Darcy discovered a chess set and invited his wife to share a match. Elizabeth was familiar with the rules, but had no true concept in the strategy involved. They played several times, with the gentleman patiently explaining his thought process as he beat her. She presented no challenge now, but he knew enough of Elizabeth's quick mind that he was certain he could make a worthy opponent out of her before long. Mrs. Gardiner sat in a nearby armchair pretending to read a book as she surreptitiously watched the goings-on between the pair and smiled at their combination of competition and playfulness.

They had finished their evening meal when Mr. Gardiner arrived. He had managed to wrap up his business quickly during the day and was eager to return to England, although he certainly did not anticipate facing his brother-in-law with any glee given what he saw as his failure to protect the man's favourite daughter. His sister was another story. Mrs. Bennet would be thrilled to learn that she had one fewer daughter to concern herself with marrying off.

Darcy thought irritably how inconvenient it was for his cousin to have left only that day when he could have waited and provided company on the journey. Consequently, he would have to ride alone.

While he usually preferred riding as a means of travel to being cooped up in a carriage, Darcy considered that the enclosed conveyance had never before held such an enticement as his lovely wife. Although he would be unable to share any intimacies with her while in the presence of her relations, he could still enjoy her company as he had that morning. Instead, he would be riding Dionysus as a means of conveying the beast back to Pemberley.

When they retired that evening, once again clad only in dressing gowns, Elizabeth announced that she was feeling well enough to fully be his wife, which relieved Darcy immensely despite his vow to be patient with her. This time however, he decided that it would be for the best to warn Elizabeth that their voices might carry. Although the Gardiners' room was, conveniently, the farthest one available, Darcy wished to take no chances at further upsetting the guardian from whom he had stolen Elizabeth. That man was angry enough with him as it was.

They made love as quietly as possible, their cries mostly muffled by kisses as Darcy moved over his wife with deliberate slowness, determined to be as gentle as he could in case any discomfort lingered. She discovered that by wrapping her legs about his waist, she could more fully open her body to him and thus increase the delightful sensations, making it even more difficult to keep her effusions to herself.

"Fitzwilliam?" She ventured, once they had both taken their pleasure and were lying together in pleasant repose.

"Yes, my love?"

"What will happen when we go back?"

"We will live at Pemberley; you shall love it there. I know that you will miss your sisters, but they can visit and Georgiana is a delight, you will be so wonderful for her." Darcy smiled, imagining his future felicity.

"What if you father does not accept me?"

"He will."

"But what if he does not, if he refuses to recognize me as your wife?" She was genuinely frightened.

"Then we will have to make our home elsewhere until Pemberley becomes mine. I do not believe it will come to that, Lizzy, but I have an inheritance from an uncle, recently deceased. I have invested it, and the interest ought to be enough to live on, if we are careful. I do not expect that to be necessary though, I had planned to settle it upon you and our future children."

"Oh my, I had not even considered a settlement."

"Yes, it occurred to me only this afternoon. I suppose I must not die until we are able to visit a solicitor to work out the details." He spoke in a teasing voice so as not to discomfit her.

"Fitzwilliam, that is not funny!" Elizabeth struck him lightly on the shoulder, then held onto him more tightly. "I cannot stand the thought that you will ever die."

"I am sorry, my sweet, I shall be more circumspect in my attempts at humour in the future."

She agreed that he must be and they fell asleep on their last night together in Scotland.

The party of four left early the next morning. The Gardiners and Elizabeth inside their hired carriage and Darcy astride his horse. Elizabeth could not help but watch him wistfully through the window as they rode along, sighing periodically to the amusement of her aunt and the annoyance of her uncle. Strangely enough, when they finally stopped to refresh themselves and the horses, she spoke only briefly with her husband before demanding a private interview with Mrs. Gardiner. Therefore, Darcy had only a kiss of her hand with which to console himself as he remounted his horse for the next leg of their journey. They travelled until dusk was nearly falling, and stopped in a small town to pass the night.

The newly-weds were given a room regrettably near that of the Gardiners, but Darcy consoled himself with the remembrance of how quiet they had managed to be the previous night. He was confused, therefore, to see his wife emerge after performing her nightly ablutions wearing not only her dressing gown, but a high-necked nightdress as well. He had not prepared for such a situation, and was lying nude beneath the counterpane.

Elizabeth was clearly nervous as she removed her dressing gown and got into bed, not touching her husband who was, fortunately, not yet fully aroused. When he reached for her, she shied away from him and his brow knit with worry.

"Elizabeth, love, are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you. Goodnight." She rolled so that she was at the very edge of the bed facing away from him and shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to sleep.

"Lizzy, I understand if you do not wish to – have relations," it was still strange to say aloud, "but will you not at least kiss me goodnight?" He saw the back of her head as she shook it to indicate the negative. "Have I done something to displease you?"

"Oh no, Fitzwilliam, you are wonderful." She still did not turn.

"Then why would you not speak with me this afternoon? Why will you not look at me now?"

She turned finally, her eyes wet with tears. "I am sorry, Fitz, I want to be with you, truly I do, but I cannot."

"Is it because we are on English soil? I assure you, our marriage is still valid here, we have the same God, we even have the same King!."

She laughed a bit, uncomfortably. "No, that is a coincidence, it is only . . . did you study much biology at Cambridge, husband?" He admitted that he had not. "Do you know anything about the bodies of women?"

"Only what I have learned from yours." He kissed her gently on the cheek and was heartened that she did not draw back this time. "Is there something wrong?"

"Not wrong, exactly. It is something that happens to every woman every month. It is only an inconvenience, really, but it renders me unable to act as a wife to you for several days."

"Oh." He acted as though he understood, although the whole thing made little sense to him. "This will continue to happen?"

"I am told it stops when a lady is with child."

"Your talk with your aunt must have been very educational." Darcy correctly surmised the source of her information. "May I hold you, still?"

"I believe I would like that." She gratefully moved into his welcoming embrace.

They left shortly after dawn the next morning, for Darcy was eager to arrive at Pemberley before nightfall. He wanted his wife to see the place of which he was so proud at its best advantage.

The sun was still shining in the brilliance of late afternoon when the manor house became visible in the distance as they reached the top of a hill. Darcy called to the coachman to stop and handed Elizabeth out of the carriage so that she might appreciate the panoramic view of her new home. They shared a kiss and even Mr. Gardiner said nothing of the impropriety as she climbed back in to complete the journey.

The servants of Pemberley were surprised to see the master's son arrive together with an unremarkable carriage, but they greeted Darcy's guests with all the deference due to them, and carried their luggage inside. The housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds came to meet the party and surprised everyone with the information that the elder Mr. Darcy was absent. He had been called to London on some urgent matter of business or other, but Miss Darcy was in residence and quite eager to see her brother.

Darcy invited his guests into the music room, where they found Miss Darcy engaged in a pianoforte lesson with her governess. The lesson was immediately interrupted when the eleven year-old girl leapt from the bench, blond curls bouncing as she ran to embrace her brother.

"Miss Darcy, decorum!" The beautiful dark-haired woman admonished her as she rose more gracefully from the same place and approached the brother of her charge. "How do you do, Master Fitzwilliam?" She executed a perfect curtsey and fluttered her eyelashes in a manner flirtatious enough to irritate the gentleman's new wife.

"Well, thank you Miss Snyder, I hope you are also in good health." The governess said she was, then with seductively pursed lips, asked what she could do for him. "I would like a moment with my sister, if you please, Madam."

She looked at Darcy's companions, her eyes lingering on Elizabeth for a moment before she flounced out of the room in a bit of a huff, clearly displeased at the rudeness her employer's son displayed in neglecting to introduce her to his guests.

"Georgie, sweetling, how have you been?" Darcy asked his sister, who clung to his hand as he motioned for his travelling party to have a seat.

"Well, thank you, Fitzwilliam." She looked shyly about the room. "Will you not introduce me to your guests?"

"Of course, I apologize for the delay. Georgiana, this is Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, I met them while in Scotland with Cousin Richard. This," he turned now to their guests, who were standing at the sofa, yet to sit down, "is my sister, Miss Darcy."

They exchanged brief pleasantries and Georgiana looked quizzically from her brother to the yet-to-be-introduced young woman who stood closest to him.

"Now Georgie, I would like to introduce you to somebody else, but before I do, I need a promise from you." She nodded her head, so he went on. "I need to you keep a secret for me. That means you cannot tell Miss Snyder or Mrs. Reynolds or anybody else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Brother, but why must I keep a secret? everybody has seen her arrive."

"The secret is not that Elizabeth is here, but her position and true name." Georgiana was taken aback by her brother's use of the woman's Christian name. "Elizabeth is my wife."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands over her mouth to keep herself from exclaiming further. "I am so happy for you. Why must that be a secret?"

"It need only remain confidential for a short time. We had planned to tell Father today, but as he is in London, it will be a few days longer before we reach him and I do not wish for him to discover this news from anybody but myself. It is wonderful news, of course, it is only that it is sensitive and we wish to share it with him in person." Georgiana nodded, wide-eyed, unable to stop looking at her new sister. "I shall write you a letter as soon as Father knows, and you will be free then from your vow of secrecy. I promise it shall not be long."

"I trust you, Fitzwilliam." She embraced him again and he smiled indulgently.

"Would you like to greet your new sister properly?"

"Of course." She turned to Elizabeth and curtsied. "It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth could see that the girl was shy and smiled at her. "You cannot know how sisters greet one another, for you have never had one before, but I have four and I know well that sisters embrace and never address each other in such a formal manner. May I call you Georgiana?"

"Oh yes! I would like that very much, or Georgie even, as my family often does." She stepped forward awkwardly, unsure of how to go about touching a stranger, even such a nice one as her brother had brought home.

Elizabeth opened her arms to the girl and they stood together for a moment before parting. "And you must call me Lizzy as my other sisters do, although I respond to Elizabeth or Eliza as well. I am not yet used to Mrs. Darcy, so although it is my name now, I fear that it may fail to get my attention for some time." She then engaged her new sister in a conversation about music while Darcy rang for tea.

Mrs. Reynolds poured the tea and Darcy looked meaningfully at his wife, reminding her without words that such a duty would soon be hers as lady of the house. Elizabeth started a bit at this realization. She had known that that she would be living at Pemberley and had seen being its mistress as some future event upon the distant death of her father-in-law, but it had not truly occurred to her that as a widower, the elder Mr. Darcy had no hostess and she was likely to be expected to take on that role immediately. Suddenly, being Mrs. Darcy was a far more daunting task than it had been just a moment before. Noting her husband's concerned gaze, Elizabeth gave him a reassuring smile and sipped her tea as calmly as possible.

After tea, the travellers were shown to their rooms to refresh themselves before dinner. Mrs. Reynolds was appalled at the young master's breach of propriety in neglecting to properly introduce her to his guests. She had heard Miss Darcy address them all by name during tea, and therefore knew that the light-haired pair was a married couple named Gardiner, but she had called the young woman, too old to be their daughter, "Elizabeth," which was curious indeed.

"Here is your room, Miss," she noticed the ring on Elizabeth's left hand and corrected herself, "Madam."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds." Elizabeth closed the door and looked around. This was unlikely to be her room in the future, as it was located in the guest wing, but she supposed she might as well get used to sleeping alone. It was her understanding that married couples of station, even her own parents, maintained separate bedchambers. This made no sense at all to her, a contented newly-wed. Elizabeth could not imagine spending a happier night than those she had passed in her husband's embrace. She knew the Gardiners shared a chamber, at least while travelling, but they were not of the gentry and she could not hope to emulate them. There were so many rules to follow and customs to which they must adhere. She sighed and began to collect her things to freshen up for dinner.

Mrs. Reynolds apologized for the simplicity of the fare, sending a pointed look at Darcy as if to remind him that it was his own fault for bringing unexpected guests. Darcy insisted that his sister eat with the adults instead of in the nursery, but her governess did not join them. Elizabeth took the lead in conversation, since Georgiana desperately wanted to know all she could about her new sister. She described growing up as the second eldest of five girls, talking about each sister in turn to her new one.

"Jane is all that is kind and good. She is one and a half years my elder and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You remind me of her a bit, you have a similar look and I sense a sweetness about you." Georgiana coloured at the praise. "I am in earnest, I can see that you will be quite the beauty by the time you are ready to début. Besides, you come from a handsome family." Elizabeth looked to her husband, who smiled in thanks. "Mary is my next sister, she will be fifteen later this year and is interested only in scripture and the pianoforte, which I could admire if only she would play something upbeat on occasion. I suspect, Georgiana, that you enjoy lighter fare as well as sombre."

"I prefer it almost exclusively. Miss Snyder insists that I learn a range of pieces, but she hardly helps at all now, for I have quite surpassed her ability to teach me. Oh!" She clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. "I am sorry, that was terribly prideful, I was only repeating what Papa said, but I know I ought not to have."

"It is all right Georgiana, I am sure that you meant no disrespect to your governess. No one person can excel at everything, after all."

"Oh yes, and she still has so much to teach me about French and figures and embroidery. About the pianoforte, I suppose I just got excited. Papa said that if I am ready to study with a real master, we can go to London for the little season!"

"That sounds lovely, does it not, Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes, we are very proud of you Georgie. Elizabeth, I think you will enjoy London as well. You may miss the rambling walks of the country, but the proximity to your family will be a great advantage."

"Oh, does your father keep a house in town, Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked politely, she was taken aback slightly by the bark of laughter emitted by her sister-in-law.

"Oh no, that expense is far to great for something that my father finds wholly unpleasant. I have been to London only once in my life, which is a pity given that Longbourn is in Hertfordshire, an easy distance from town. My youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia, seem to think though that once they are out, they will be partaking of the London season and my mother refuses to disabuse them of such a notion."

"Will they be out soon, do you think, now that you are married?"

Elizabeth smiled. "I certainly hope not, Lydia is of an age with you, and Kitty is only one year older. They are irredeemably silly girls, not at all like you I am afraid. Well no, perhaps not irredeemable, that must be reserved for Mama who, while she is an affectionate mother and cares deeply for us, is also prone to histrionics and concerned mainly about marrying off her daughters regardless of youth."

"Is that why you married so quickly?" She caught her brother's sharp look and immediately regretted her forwardness. "I am sorry, was that impolite? I truly meant no insult."

"It is all right Georgiana, my parents do not know we are married any more than your father does." The girl gasped. "Fitzwilliam and I met in Scotland and love just took its course." They ceased speaking on the topic when a servant arrived to clear their plates, and the entire party retired to the music room.

Georgiana played a piece that she had recently learned, one that Elizabeth knew to be difficult. The entire small party was impressed by the talent of the young girl who, although she made a few mistakes, showed great promise for her age. Darcy turned pages for his sister, then rose from the bench remained near the instrument and encouraged his wife to favour them with a performance of her own.

Elizabeth found among the sheet music a simpler piece and played it passably well. Standing behind her to turn pages, Darcy felt only mildly guilty for sneaking glances down the front of her dress. After all, if there was any bosom he was permitted to enjoy with impunity, it was that of his wife. She played a second song, this one with a vocal part. It was the first time Darcy had heard her sing and he was bewitched all over again. Her alto voice was sensual and womanly and it made him want nothing more than to drag her upstairs to his room and have his way with her. Fortunately, he managed to keep control over his ungentlemanly urges.

It was not long before the party was fatigued, having travelled for two full days With more yet ahead of them, they all retired to their respective rooms for the night.

Elizabeth had just climbed into bed and snuffed out her candle when a soft knock sounded at her door. "Who is there?" She called, but there was no answer, instead the door opened and somebody entered, shrouded by darkness. Alone in a strange place, her first instinct was to be frightened, but she gathered her courage and addressed the intruder. "Fitzwilliam?"

"Of course, my love. Who else would be entering your bedroom at this hour of the night?"

Delighting in the opportunity to tease him, she smiled, although he could not see her, and thought quickly. "Since my lover has just fled out the window, I suppose you are the only other possibility." She was immediately appalled by her own inappropriate jest, and flushed at her boldness, glad he could not see her in that moment.

Darcy was unamused at her joke, but chose not to respond. Instead he cast off his dressing gown and joined his wife in bed.

"In all seriousness, Fitz, what are you doing here?" She was relieved to note that he wore a nightshirt and assumed that it meant he understood the limits of her body.

"You are my wife, my place is beside you."

"What if somebody discovers us?"

"You have no maid here, so nobody will enter your chamber. My valet is not yet returned because I was unexpected, so nobody will enter mine to find it empty."

"What about when the maids discover your bed has not been used?"

"I made it look as though it had, I am quite clever you know. Besides, Lizzy, when we return to Pemberley, they will all know you as my wife and if anybody should find out about this night, they will soon realize that nothing improper occurred."

"But the gossip -"

"Pemberley servants do not gossip."

Elizabeth scoffed at her husband's naivete, but encouraged his arms to wrap around her and sighed in contentment. Perhaps they would not be have to sleep separately after all. Then again, perhaps Darcy just did not know what was expected of him, of them. She feared the day he would learn.


	10. Chapter 9: Fathers-in-Law

Darcy did manage to creep back to his room in the morning without anybody being the wiser. He readied himself for travel and met the rest of his party for breakfast quite early. He left a note for his not yet awake sister and the group headed south. With Dionysus safe in the Pemberley stable, Darcy was free to travel inside the carriage with his wife. Although he could not touch her as intimately as he might wish, given the location of her aunt and uncle on the opposite bench, he was able to enjoy her delightful conversation and even cradle her in his arms with impunity as she napped.

They spent the night in an inn as they had on the way to Pemberley and set off early in the morning for Hertfordshire. As they neared the village of Meryton, Elizabeth tried to prepare her husband for the spectacle of the Bennet family. Mr. Gardiner could only laugh at her apt descriptions of his sister's histrionics. Darcy assured her that he would give them all the respect due to his in-laws and stroked her hands as she fidgeted nervously.

They arrived in the early afternoon and were welcomed by the surprised housekeeper, Mrs. Hill. Only Mr. Bennet was at home, so she went to fetch him.

"Lizzy, my dear, I am so glad you have come home. I had not expected you quite so soon, but I must admit that you are a sight for sore eyes indeed, although it is my ears that have suffered most without your sensible conversation." Mr. Bennet looked curiously at the tall stranger, but greeted his brother and sister-in-law warmly before awaiting an introduction. His daughter did not keep him waiting long.

"Papa, I need to introduce you to someone quite important in my life. This is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, my husband. Fitzwilliam, my father, Mr. Bennet."

Mr. Bennet looked at her for a moment before he burst into laughter. "That is a good joke Lizzy, but tell me truly, why have you brought this man into my house? You are full young for a suitor."

"I am in earnest, Papa, he is no longer my suitor. I am Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy now." She displayed her wedding ring. "Besides, I am hardly so young as you seem to think. Was Mama not seventeen when you married her?"

He pulled his daughter toward himself so that she was out of reach of the large newcomer and enclosed her in his arms. "Do not be silly my dear, you are not yet of age. Mrs. Bennet and I had her father's consent. If this blackguard has seduced you into a false marriage, he will answer for it."

"No, Papa." Elizabeth wrested herself from his grasp and moved toward her husband. "We were wed in Scotland last week, in a church before God. It is a valid marriage, I swear to you; my husband has the certificate."

"How could you do such a thing?" He demanded of his daughter before rounding upon his brother-in-law. "How could you allow such a travesty to occur under your very nose? I entrusted her to you!" Mr. Bennet was livid but flinched when his daughter stepped in front of him as if to shield Mr. Gardiner from his righteous anger.

"Do not blame my aunt and uncle. I ran away to be wed, there was nothing they could have done to stop us."

"Why would you do this, Lizzy, have I not taught you better? You are the cleverest of all my girls. I might expect an elopement from a silly creature like Kitty or Lydia someday, but you?" He paced for a moment, thinking. "Are you with child?"

"Papa!"

"Tell me, is there any possibility that you are with child?"

Darcy looked as though he wanted to interfere in the interrogation, but he had no idea what to say. Elizabeth blushed and shook her head vehemently, unable to make eye contact with her father.

"You are certain?"

She nodded this time, still without looking up.

"No possibility at all, I see. So the marriage is not yet consummated, then. We can have it annulled."

Darcy tried to speak, but was cut off by his wife.

"Papa, no. That is not what I said." Her entire face flushed deep red.

"If he has ruined you, how can you be sure there will be no child, no proof of your folly?"

"This is no folly, Sir." Darcy found his voice at last and it sounded severe. Not at all the way he had expected to greet his father-in-law for the first time. "Elizabeth is my wife and someday when she does bear my child, it will be cause for great joy."

"And I am not ruined, I am married!" Elizabeth insisted with a stomp of her foot, not caring at the moment how childish she seemed.

"Tell me Lizzy, how do you know then that there is no . . . consequence?"

"I just know. You ought to be aware though, Papa, that Mr. Darcy is my husband in every way." Her emphasis and heightened blush left no doubt as to her meaning.

"Lizzy, please, I give you the choice to leave your false husband and come back home. You are young and were seduced by his lies. If you are certain there is no child, we shall yet find a way to annul your marriage. Nobody ever need know of your little adventure."

"Fitzwilliam has never lied to me and I shall not leave him." She paused for a moment, regarding her father carefully. "I suppose then, that we are not welcome here for the night."

"That man certainly is not."

"Where he is unwelcome, as his wife, I am as well. I shall greet my mother and sisters and we shall be on our way. I can return for my things." Her voice was shaking with emotion.

"No." Mr. Bennet's face had gone white with anger. "If you choose to go with him, you leave now. I will give you some time to gather your belongings, but you will not be permitted to speak to your sisters, I cannot have your scandalous behaviour tainting their reputations."

"I must at least bid them farewell."

"If you choose this man," he spat the word, "over your own family then you are dead to us."

Elizabeth looked as though she might faint and Darcy busied himself tending to her, so Mr. Gardiner spoke up at last. "Brother, I know that this is difficult to accept -"

"You! You allowed this to happen. I will certainly never trust you with any of my daughters again. As long as you support this petulant child against me, you will also be unwelcome in my home."

"Do not be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Thomas Bennet was normally a sedate man, his ire had never been raised so high. "What is ridiculous is sending your child on a holiday with family only to have her come back married to some rake."

Elizabeth had quite recovered from her near swoon and was standing on her own, leaving Darcy free to defend himself. "Perhaps I ought to have waited to marry Elizabeth until we had returned to England and received your permission but I am no rake! At worst I am a coward."

"No, Fitzwilliam." His wife stroked his arm and it made him smile briefly, but he steeled his expression and continued.

"I am a coward." He continued to face Mr. Bennet. "I feared what my family would say about my choice of bride. I feared that their prejudice and excessive concern for rank would tear us apart. I ought to have been strong enough to ignore any disapprobation they might show and court your daughter properly; for that I am sorry. When I think how happy she has made me though, in only one week of being my wife, I have no true regrets about my actions, unwise as they may seem to you."

"I know nothing of your family, nothing of you. I do not even know if you can support my daughter."

"I am the only son and eldest child of a landowner from Derbyshire. Someday I will be master of a prosperous estate, until that day I have an adequate allowance and sufficient investments to -"

"So, your occupation is waiting around for your father to die, and what of my daughter in the meantime?"

"Elizabeth will be mistress of my father's homes. My mother has been gone for many years." Darcy's voice caught in his throat and he was grateful to feel Elizabeth's small fingers intertwine with his own as a show of support.

"What proof do I have that you are who you claim to be? For all I know you could be some labourer who is passing himself off as a gentleman in order to seduce himself a wealthy bride."

"If that were the case, Sir, I am aware that I would have made a poor selection indeed, Elizabeth has informed me of her prospects. However, since I know that I have made the best possible choice in bride," he kissed his wife's hand, "I hope it is clear that money is not what I seek."

"He is telling the truth about his prospects." Mrs. Gardiner attempted to help. "We spent a night at Pemberley on our way south, it is a grand estate indeed."

Mr. Bennet ignored her and turned back to his daughter. "All right Lizzy, you must decide now. Your family or this man?"

"Papa, please!" Tears streamed down her face as she realized the repercussions of the choice he was forcing her to make. "Fitzwilliam is my family now as well."

"I mean it, Lizzy. If you stay married to him, I cannot have the taint of your elopement touch your sisters, you must not see them again."

"If you force me to make such a terrible decision, I suppose that I must choose my husband for I shall not dishonour my marriage vows." She trembled with anger at her father and fear of losing her family. Darcy's strong hand rested supportively at her back.

"Should you rather break with the commandments then and dishonour your father?"

"My father dishonours me!" She threw the accusation at him without fully knowing what she meant.

"Since you have made your decision, you ought to get started gathering your things. Your mother and sisters have gone to call on your Aunt Phillips. They plan to stay for tea." Mr. Bennet looked at the clock and thought for a moment. "You have one half hour to gather what things you need and go."

Elizabeth looked at her father with hollow eyes and nodded before taking her husband's hand and ascending the stairs to the room she had long shared with Jane.

"I am so sorry, Lizzy." Darcy gathered her in his arms the moment they were inside the bedchamber. She wriggled free from his grasp and called for the maid, instructing her to quickly pack only her finest clothing.

Elizabeth did not speak as she gathered up her most treasured possessions, which were few. Before long, she had a trunk packed to take with her to her new life. Darcy carried it down the stairs himself and directed a servant to lash it to the coach. Just before exiting the room, she removed the necklace her father had given her and left it on the bureau. Perhaps Jane would like having it as a keepsake but Elizabeth could not bear to wear it anymore after her father's cruelty.

Soon, they stood outside Longbourn ready to take their leave.

"Goodbye, Papa." Her face was blank but trembling, the tracks of dried tears still visible upon her cheeks. "Please tell Mama and my sisters that I am well and that I love them."

"Do not try to send them letters, Mrs. Darcy. I will accept no post from anyone bearing that name." As he turned away, Elizabeth thought she saw moisture collecting in his eyes as well.

The moment the carriage lurched into motion toward London, Elizabeth burst into tears again. Darcy pulled her into his lap, heedless of their audience, and stroked her back but he had no real idea how to help her through her crisis.

"I cannot believe Papa would act like that! He has always been so loving to me. I know that he has shown a general lack of care at times, but I always fancied myself his favourite"

"You are, Lizzy." Her uncle assured her.

"You mean I was." The correction of his tense brought on a fresh round of tears. "Mama, Jane, Mary, even Kitty and Lydia will wonder what has become of me. He will claim that I was carried off by some brute and I shall never be able to tell them the truth."

"I will write to your mother once some time has passed." Mr. Gardiner promised. Your father is angry at me for the time being, but he will not cut me out completely. You mother would not stand for it given my easy access to fine fabrics." The jest made her smile very little.

"Oh Fitzwilliam," she sobbed against his lapel, "I was so wrong about my father. You could be equally wrong about yours. What shall we do if we are cast out by both our families?"

"I do not believe that will happen, my love, but if it does, we shall not starve, I promise you. Remember, I told you about my inheritance?" He felt her nod against his chest. "It is mine alone, free of any restrictions. We can live upon it if need be, but do not worry so soon. We will see my father yet this evening, and he will welcome us, I am sure of it." What Darcy neglected to say was that his confidence in his father's acceptance was based more on the man's desire for familial harmony and a positive public image than anything else. He certainly did not want to upset his wife further, so he just let her sob against his waistcoat and stroked her back until her body stopped trembling.

Longbourn was an easy distance to town and as it was not the season, there were few other carriages to impede their voyage. The travellers found themselves at a fashionable town-house before the dinner hour. Elizabeth had repaired her appearance and other than her slightly red-rimmed eyes, no evidence remained of her recent upset. With the look of more confidence than they felt, they approached the door and knocked.

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy is not – Master Fitzwilliam! It is good to see you returned safely, Sir."

"Is my father not at home to callers, Sinclair?"

"No, Sir; he has come to town on some urgent business and hopes to leave quickly without any social engagements. May I announce your guests?"

"My father is not yet acquainted with my party, I shall introduce them myself. Please ask him to join us in the green drawing room." Darcy took Elizabeth's arm in his and led the Gardiners into his second home.

They waited only a few minutes before the senior Mr. Darcy arrived. His resemblance to his son was immediately noticeable. Although one could hardly be mistaken for the other, it was evident where Darcy had inherited his dark, wavy hair and square jaw. Although the older man's hair was sprinkled liberally with silver and lines had formed near his mouth, the shape of his lips was not unfamiliar to Elizabeth, who blushed lightly at the thought. He was only an inch shorter than his son and carried himself with the confident mien of a younger man.

Darcy greeted his father warmly and introduced him to the Gardiners, then paused while the man looked expectantly at Elizabeth. He took a deep breath and ploughed forward. "Father, I am most pleased to introduce you to Elizabeth Darcy, my wife." Elizabeth dropped a curtsey and smiled hopefully at the older gentleman, who was silent for a long moment.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Darcy. Would you be so kind as to excuse me and my son for a moment?" With a glare that brooked no opposition, Mr. Darcy bade his son follow him to his study, which he did after kissing his wife's hand apologetically.

Darcy saw that while his father was clearly upset, he was visibly less volatile than Elizabeth's had been.

"Would you care to explain yourself, son?"

He managed to sum up their courtship quite concisely. "Yes, of course, Sir. I was in Scotland with Richard when we met the Gardiners, who were travelling with their niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth and I spent a good deal of time in each other's company, then were parted for several weeks by our varied destinations. I had gotten to know Elizabeth quite well and found myself thinking of nothing else but her. I had decided that I would have to seek her out upon her return to England because there was nothing I wished more than to marry her. When I chanced to see her again later in our travels, I only fell more deeply in love. Both Richard and the Gardiners tried to convince us of the impossibility of our union. Afraid that she would be lost to me otherwise, I moved to make her my bride immediately. I am sorry if I have disappointed you, Father, but I could not have returned knowing we could never wed."

Mr. Darcy listened to his son's tale with a furrowed brow. "Did you compromise her? Tell me truly, did her uncle force this match?"

"No, in fact her uncle was quite angry. I admit that I did not act honourably in that I spirited her away to be wed in secret. Mr. Gardiner accused me of kidnapping, I am sure that if Elizabeth had not convinced him of her willingness, he would have either run me through or dragged me before a magistrate in Scotland."

"And this girl, she is your wife, truly?" His son only nodded. Mr. Darcy sighed in resignation. "If you wish for an annulment, it could be arranged, even now. Might there be a child?"

"There is no child as of yet, but I have no wish to end my marriage, I love my wife."

Mr. Darcy mumbled something which his son could not make out, although he thought he heard a reference to a "Miss Davis."

"Excuse me Sir?"

He shook his head dismissively at the question. "This Mrs. Darcy of yours, is she unsuitable in some way; why could you not have courted her properly?"

"She is not of our sphere. She has relations in trade."

"Her father?" Mr. Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache as he awaited a response.

"Mr. Bennet is a gentleman of modest estate with four other daughters and no son."

"Well, as she is already your wife, I suppose there is nothing to be done. At least she is a gentleman's daughter and you vouch for her worthiness." He stared at his son for a long moment before rendering his judgement. "I would like to limit our contact with the lesser relations you mentioned. I suppose the Gardiners are among those."

"Yes, Sir; although they are a fine, genteel sort of people and Mrs. Gardiner is the granddaughter of -"

"Never mind, Fitzwilliam. Please see them out and ask Mrs. Darcy to join us here."

"Yes, Sir." Darcy left the room relieved but conflicted.

Darcy directed a servant to retrieve Elizabeth's trunks from the carriage and apologized to the Gardiners that he could not invite them for dinner.

"I understand that your father does not wish to entertain us in his home," Mr. Gardiner admitted, "but I cannot leave without some assurance that he will be kind to Lizzy."

"My father is the model of propriety, but I promise you, Sir, that I will bring Elizabeth to your home or to an inn before I allow her to stay in a place where she would be abused."

Mr. Gardiner had given his niece enough money to hire a hackney to Gracechurch Street while they had been left alone by the Darcys and had secured a promise that she would come to them should her father-in-law prove intolerable in any way.

Once the Gardiners had departed, Darcy led Elizabeth into his father's study, where she was encouraged to take a seat before the man's desk. He welcomed her politely, if not warmly, to the family and asked her about herself. Elizabeth felt as though she was quite on display, but answered all Mr. Darcy's questions as well as she could. He was curious about her father's situation and was surprised to learn that she actually knew quite a bit about Longbourn's acreage, livestock, crops, and tenants, as she had long been her father's only confidante in estate matters. He also inquired about her family, a topic which made her lip quiver in an attempt to hold back tears.

Darcy took his wife's hand and stroked it, the most comfort that he could give her in this particular company. He explained to his father that Mr. Bennet had cast her off in the wake of their elopement and that she had not been able to even bid her sisters farewell.

As practical and stoic a man as Mr. Darcy was, he could not help but be moved by the tears of the young woman who sat before him. In the short time he had spoken with her, she seemed to be both bright and sweet. She was also undeniably beautiful and it was clear that his son was in love, he determined to give the girl a chance despite his reservations.

A servant entered the room to announce that the meal was ready to be served and Darcy took his wife's arm to lead her to the dining room.

The staff at Darcy House turned out to be as efficient as that at Pemberley. On short notice, the cook added a few simple dishes to stretch a meal designed for one into something appropriate for three, if not for a homecoming. Over dinner, Elizabeth was able to talk about her family, sharing amusing anecdotes about her sisters without dwelling on her lack of a future with them.

Mr. Darcy was taken aback to discover that she had already met Georgiana and admonished his son for encouraging his sister to dishonesty, although he was actually quite grateful to have been told such monumental news in person rather than in a letter from a third party. Eventually, the conversation shifted to practical matters, including the living arrangements of the newly-weds

"I do not know what sort of home you had in mind, Fitzwilliam. With the bequest from your uncle, you could purchase a house in town but you are, of course, welcome here. If you desire privacy but prefer the country, the dower house at Pemberley is available, it must only be aired out and perhaps refurnished a bit."

"I had planned to settle the bulk of my inheritance on my wife and future children. Both Elizabeth and I dearly love the country, and although she is unfamiliar with Derbyshire, I have no doubt that before long she will care for it just as I do. We had hoped to stay at Pemberley, Father, unless you have objections. I would miss Georgiana dearly if I could not see her every day, especially after such a prolonged absence as I have just had. In addition, Elizabeth is used to living among sisters and I am sure that she would appreciate the additional companionship as well. They got along quite well when they met two days ago."

"Well, let us speak plainly then. To prevaricate at this point would only cause confusion or unhappiness. Mrs. Darcy, what are your wishes?"

"I thought Pemberley to be a most beautiful place, although I admit, I would like to spend some time in town if possible. I have never seen an opera or Shakespeare performed on the stage."

"And would you be happy living under my roof, or do you desire a home of your own with your new husband?"

She looked uncertainly at Darcy, who smiled and encouraged her to answer honestly. "I have never had a home of my own, so I do not believe that I am in any great need of one. Fitzwilliam was correct when he said that I would enjoy living with Georgiana. Also, I am sorry if I speak out of turn, but I believe my husband would like to remain in the home he has always known to learn from you about management of the estate."

"Is that true, Fitzwilliam?"

"It is, Sir."

"It is decided then, you shall come to live at Pemberley. Did Georgiana tell you that we plan to spend the little season in town?"

"She expressed such a hope when we saw her recently."

"Yes, she has reached the bounds of what Miss Snyder can teach her on the pianoforte, it is time for her to study with a proper music master."

Elizabeth suppressed a laugh at the recollection of Georgiana's similarly voiced thought, instead she only smiled and spoke honestly. "Your daughter is very talented, Sir. She does you credit."

"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. Do you play?"

"I do, a little."

"Will you favour us with a song this evening, Madam?"

"I am terribly sorry, Sir, but I find myself much fatigued from our journey and the trials of the day. Perhaps I might play for you tomorrow."

"There is no hurry, I suppose. Although I had planned to leave for Pemberley on the morrow. Will you feel equal to travelling then?"

Darcy interjected. "We have been on the road for four full days now, to say nothing of our individual travels beforehand. Perhaps we could remain in town until you return with Georgiana for the little season in a few weeks' time."

"That sounds acceptable. I shall have Mrs. Drummond ready a chamber for Mrs. Darcy to use that one until your new rooms are prepared."

"My new rooms, Sir?"

Mr. Darcy looked at him as though he were stupid, a rare expression for him to turn upon his intelligent son. "You are a married man now and require a different sort of arrangement than you have always had." He considered for a moment. "There is a suite of rooms on the second floor that should be appropriate. The bedrooms connect inside and each have their own dressing rooms." He addressed Elizabeth. "You may decorate the suite as you wish, those particular rooms have not been made over since my own mother was a new bride. You will desire, I am sure, to make your mark and feel comfortable there."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

"Of course, it is your prerogative. Shall I see you two in the morning? I plan to leave directly after an early breakfast."

"I hope to be awake, father, but if not, please carry my best wishes to Georgiana and inform her that she did an excellent job keeping our confidence and she is now free to speak about our marriage with whomever she wishes."

"Goodnight Fitzwilliam, Mrs. Darcy."

Darcy took his wife's arm and, bidding his father goodnight, led her upstairs.

That night, it was her bed that was neglected; he held her in a chaste embrace throughout the night in his own room.


	11. Chapter 10: Settling In

The newly-weds did wake in time to join Mr. Darcy for breakfast and see him off to Pemberley. Afterwards, they sat in the drawing room and talked.

"We have done almost nothing but travel since our wedding, Fitzwilliam. I hardly know what married people do when at home."

"Much the same as single people, I suppose, with some notable additions." He winked suggestively and she blushed. "What would you do if you were in Hertfordshire?"

"I would go for a walk, but this is London, I suppose I can hardly ramble about here unaccompanied."

"No, but we could take a stroll together in Hyde Park. What else would you like to do?"

"I should very much like to visit my aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street. They must be worried about me, I ought to reassure them of my well-being."

Darcy knew that he had to broach a difficult topic. "Lizzy, my father was kind to us . . ."

"Yes, he was. It was certainly a welcome change."

"He accepted you as my wife, largely because we were already wed and there was little he could do but also because, as a gentleman's daughter, you are a suitable bride for me, if not ideal in his eyes." She looked at him silently and he strove onward. "My father's concern is that you have relations in trade. He is desirous that you minimize your socialization with them while we are in town."

"But the Gardiners are the sole people I know here and they are my only family now! Does he wish me to cut ties completely?" She left unspoken how much she had already given up on his account.

"I do not believe so, it is appearances alone that concern him in this case. Perhaps we could visit them today, before anybody knows we are home and henceforth you might continue the relationship by correspondence."

"I may continue to write to my aunt?" She felt amazing relief at this small concession.

"I do not see why not."

"We can go see them today, you said?" He nodded. "I should like to go now then, before any walk in the park."

"Of course, Lizzy, whatever you wish." Darcy could tell that she was upset by the directive, but had determined to follow it. He was correct to assume that she feared alienating his father as they had her own. As long as she was permitted to keep in touch with her relations, she supposed that she could bear the separation for the sake of family harmony. In truth, she did not expect to be much in London anyway. She knew how her husband preferred the country and it seemed as though his father was much the same.

The Gardiners were understanding of the situation, if disappointed. Mr. Gardiner iterated to Elizabeth that she could always come to them for any reason and Mrs. Gardiner swore to be a frequent correspondent. They had arrived earlier and stayed much longer than a polite call allowed, but Elizabeth was still disappointed when it was time to leave.

Darcy and Elizabeth spent the first part of the afternoon strolling together in the park. As it was an unfashionable time to be in London, nobody of Darcy's acquaintance seemed to be about and they were able to enjoy themselves without any interruptions. They both missed the freedom that the privacy of Scotland had given them; they could hardly run about fencing with sticks or wade in a lake here where anybody might see them.

Before returning home for the day, Darcy insisted on buying his wife a gift. He was unsure exactly what she would need, but knew that her simple gowns from Hertfordshire would not help her move in his society, so he led her to the modiste he knew his mother had once patronized and asked the proprietor to provide Elizabeth with a small variety of dresses that would befit her station during the coming months. He hoped that she would find a mentor to guide her before the season began and help complete her wardrobe; perhaps his aunt could fill that role. Nervous about spending her husband's money, or worse, that of her father-in-law, Elizabeth attempted to decline the finery. Eventually, she was persuaded to order two gowns. To Darcy's chagrin, neither one was appropriate for an evening at the theatre.

Eventually, they did return to the town-house, where Darcy gave Elizabeth a complete tour, ending with the two bedroom suite that his father had allotted for their use. Although he knew very little about any sort of fashion, even Darcy could tell that the furnishings were quite out of date. Besides, they had a dark, dreary quality to them that he would be loath to see every day. He encouraged Elizabeth to select entirely new furnishings before they moved into it.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, no, it will be so expensive."

"Hang the expense, Lizzy. Do you really think you can be happy here?"

"I can be happy anywhere as long as I have you."

He could not help but kiss her following this remark, but continued to insist upon a change. "My father was correct when he declared this suite out of date. For some reason, my mother neglected it when she redecorated the town-house after their marriage. No, you must do something about these draperies, they are so . . . depressing. Of course, if you loved it, I would stay here only to be with you, but you can hardly wish to live like this."

"What I hardly wish is to be a nuisance."

"You are not a nuisance, you are Mrs. Darcy and it shall be done as you say. Now, what about these furnishings?"

Elizabeth agreed that it was for the best that they be changed and agreed to select a new colour scheme on the morrow.

As she joined him in bed that night, Elizabeth shyly admitted to her husband that her courses had ended, but she was unsure what to do next and so lay beside him in her nightgown, waiting. When he put his arms around her, she responded in kind and eagerly accepted his kisses. Darcy struggled with the hem of her gown for a time, but it was firmly trapped beneath her body and he had to ask her to sit up in order to remove it, which he did along with his own nightshirt. He pressed kisses to her breasts and down her stomach, but was encouraged by her tugging hands to return to her mouth, where she kissed him enthusiastically as she rubbed her lower body against him.

Although they were still unpractised at the act, their mutual experience had rendered the newly-weds marginally confident and their reunion went smoothly. Elizabeth was pleased to find that not only was there no sharp pain; even her residual soreness, whether it had been from horseback riding or marital relations, had receded completely. She found herself whispering not only her husband's name, but also desperate pleas for "more" as he stroked her from within. Darcy found his completion only seconds after his wife, and fell heavily upon her, exhausted with the effort of not only their lovemaking, but also the days of abstention that had led up to it.

"Fitzwilliam?" Her voice sounded breathless and distant from below him. He blinked a few times before he realized that he was crushing her and rolled quickly to the side.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth," he kissed the corner of her mouth,"I will try not to do that in the future."

"Mmmm," was her only verbal response as she cuddled up under his arm, slinging one leg across his and using his chest as her pillow.

The next morning, Darcy was roused by some faint noise. Before he could react in his sleepy state, he saw the door to his dressing room swing open and a man come through it.

"Ah, Master Fitzwilliam, welcome back from -" The valet was stopped in his tracks by the unprecedented sight of a woman in his master's bed.

Darcy hurried to cover Elizabeth fully with the sheets and dismissed his valet, wondering why the man had come back to work. He had been given leave for the duration of his employer's tour and was not expected to return until officially summoned. Darcy sighed and got out of bed, donning his nightshirt and drawing the bed curtains around his still slumbering wife before heading for his dressing room.

"Stevens," he addressed his valet upon entering the small room, "why have you come to London?" He sat down and allowed the man to shave him as they conversed.

"Mrs. Reynolds sent for me, Sir, she said you had returned." He looked embarrassed to bring up the next topic. "I am sorry to have intruded, Master Fitzwilliam, I did not know that you had, er, company."

"Yes, Stevens, there will be some changes to our routine now that I am a married man." He ignored the man's surprised expression and went on. "Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy and I will not wish to be disturbed by anyone who does not knock first and await a response before entering."

"Of course, Sir. May I ask when such a joyous event took place? Mrs. Reynolds reported nothing of it in her letter."

"She would not have since she did not know, we wished to inform my father of our marriage first, and we saw him only upon coming to London. We have been wed for just over a week now."

"Congratulations, Sir. Will she be making use of your dressing room as well?" Stevens looked around doubtfully, not seeing adequate space for a lady's things.

"No, her gowns are located in the dressing room next door for now, but we will both be relocating as soon as our suite can be redecorated. I am sure you will work with the staff to see that my things are situated properly in their new location when the time comes." Suddenly, something occurred to Darcy and he jerked, causing a small cut on his cheek. "Oh!"

"I am terribly sorry, Sir."

"It is not your fault, Stevens, I have only just realized that Elizabeth – Mrs. Darcy does not have a maid of her own, I must speak with Mrs. Drummond today."

The valet finished shaving him and was drying his face when a soft voice called from the other room. "Fitzwilliam?"

"I am coming, love." He called, then turned to his servant. "You are dismissed, Stevens, I can finish readying myself for the day."

The man looked dubious, but bowed and retreated to the servants' hallway as his master entered the bedroom.

Darcy greeted his drowsy wife with kisses as she sat up in bed, then helped her dress as he had every morning since their marriage. He had learned to dress himself efficiently during his brief tour and was soon ready to face the day as well. For the most part, Elizabeth was also capable of taking care of herself in the morning, having shared only one maid among five sisters, but did require a second pair of hands in order to properly secure her corset.

When they went downstairs, Darcy summoned Stevens and introduced the man properly to his wife. The valet was deferential to the new mistress, but visibly unimpressed with his master's ability to ready himself alone. It was true that Darcy knew only one knot in which to tie his cravat, but as a traveller, he had not required variety. He saw the disdainful look aimed at his throat and knew that he would have to re-accustom himself to being attended. He asked Mrs. Drummond to wait upon them as well and informed her that a competent ladies' maid would need to be acquired for Elizabeth.

The housekeeper proved to be incredibly efficient. By the time the Darcys were ready to retire that evening, a young woman named Jessica was there in Elizabeth's temporary chambers. It turned out the girl was the niece of another housekeeper in the area who had been well-trained as a maid but unable to find a position due to the growing fashion for French attendants. Over the next several days, she proved to be an excellent choice.

Jessica was well-versed in the latest fashion, and helped her new mistress choose the most appropriate from the few gowns she had brought from Hertfordshire while she waited for her new ones to become ready. Although Darcy preferred to see his wife's hair unbound, he knew such a sight was for his eyes only and even he could not argue with the attractiveness of the styles that she now wore outside of the house. His own fashion improved with the return of his valet and the striking pair was now fashionable as they went out onto the streets of London.

A few days after his father's departure, Darcy realized that a marriage announcement would have to be published, they were getting strange looks on the street from people who knew him enough to wonder, but not well enough to venture an introduction. Before such an announcement could be printed, however, he knew that his family would have to be informed. As none of his father's siblings had survived to adulthood, his late great-uncle had been the last of the extended Darcy family. His mother's kin, however, were very much alive and particularly interested in his life. He drafted three letters; one to his grandmother, the dowager Lady Matlock, one to his aunt, Lady Catherine DeBourgh, and one to his uncle, Lord Matlock, in which he begged the man not to blame his own son, Richard, for failing to be forthcoming with the information. Once the letters had been on their way for two days, Darcy deemed it safe to place an announcement in the newspaper.

After conferring with Elizabeth, he decided to send a copy of the paper to her father, in the hopes that it would help the man to accept their marriage. The special messenger brought it back unopened, which made his wife cry in despair.

"My love," he suggested gently, "I recall that you have a close friend in Meryton. Someone who is not under the authority of your father could perhaps spread the news of our marriage."

The suggestion reminded Elizabeth that she had not corresponded with her friend Charlotte Lucas since she had been in Scotland. She had last written in despair that she would never see her love again, but no letters had since been exchanged and, thanking her husband for the idea, she immediately began to compose a letter.

London

2nd September

My Dear Charlotte,

I am sorry to have been such a neglectful correspondent these past few weeks, but when you hear my reason, you shall be sure to forgive me. When last I wrote, I was suffering from the loss of my love, but no longer! I re-encountered the enigmatic Mr. F. D. a fortnight after my last missive and we were married almost immediately at a small church in Scotland. As you may have heard, we went to Hertfordshire last week to acquaint my family with our situation, but, angry with what he perceived as scandalous behaviour, my father ejected us from his home. He will accept neither my husband, nor myself so long as I remain his wife. Consequently, I have been forbidden from corresponding with my mother and sisters. Therefore, I ask of you a favour as my friend; that you tell my family I love them and even show them this letter so that they can know how happy I am in my marriage. In fact, the only thing I require to be truly content is the acceptance of my family.

I do not include my new name so that when you do show this missive to my mother and sisters, they might not be burdened with knowledge that has been forbidden by my father until such a time as he is able to forgive what he currently views as an unpardonable transgression.

My husband has one sister, who is similar in age to Lydia and Maria and seems like a delightful girl. She is coming soon to London with her father to study with a pianoforte master and we shall remain in town for the little season before returning to Derbyshire, where my husband's father has his estate. I know not of our plans for the season next year, but if your father brings you to London as he has suggested he might, I do hope that we will be able to meet.

Although my name has changed, I remain your devoted friend,

Elizabeth D.

She sealed the letter and handed it to her husband to post with a smile on her face, optimistic now about getting word to her sisters regarding her well being.

Elizabeth was in a good mood for the rest of the day, and playfully allowed Darcy more liberties than she previously had when in the public rooms of the house. He chased her from one room to the next before finally cornering her in the library, where she collapsed on the sofa in a fit of laughter.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, your father has twice as many books as mine!"

"You have not yet seen the library at Pemberley."

"I am so looking forward to that. May I read whatever I wish?"

"Anything your heart desires, Lizzy, but I did not bring you here to discuss literature."

"You did not bring me here at all, I brought you!"

He sat beside her on the sofa, trapping her in the circle of his arms. "Ah, you have fallen for my ploy. In truth, we are here by my design and you are my prisoner."

"Perhaps I can seduce my jailer to set me free." She leaned toward him so that her lips were a hair's breadth from his and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Might that work?"

His own voice had gone hoarse. "It is certainly worth attempting" He closed his eyes and tilted his head forward just enough to kiss her, but encountered only air, then he heard giggling. Darcy was mildly frustrated at the missed contact, but delighted, as always, in the sound of his wife's musical laughter. He opened his eyes and saw that she had shrunk back against the cushions and was looking at him through her lashes in a seductive manner. Bringing his mouth down too quickly for her to move again, Darcy captured her lips with his own. She put up no resistance and even pulled him more tightly to herself, using the curly locks of his hair to hold on to him. They kissed for several minutes, delighting in their closeness before he began touching her sensually, allowing his hands to roam across her body on top of her gown, disregarding entirely the wrinkles he was surely causing. Eventually, he could not be satisfied touching fabric, and one hand ventured beneath the hem of her dress to slide slowly up her leg, he had just reached her knee when they heard a voice.

"Mrs. Darcy, I am afraid there is a problem with the menu for dinner this evening." Mrs. Drummond's voice was more clear than it ought to be. Elizabeth realized with horror that the door was open and they were about to be caught. Panicked, she pushed away her amorous husband and straightened her skirt as best she could before the housekeeper's head appeared in the doorway. "Madam, I am sorry to disturb you." She saw Darcy sitting there but pretended not to notice his dishevelled state. "Good afternoon, Sir."

He politely acknowledged her, but made no move to leave, waiting patiently as the women discussed the substitution of one dish for another. The moment Mrs. Drummond was out the door, he moved in that direction himself, although he remained inside as he shut and locked it. Darcy stood for a moment, with his back against the library door and studied his wife, sitting primly on the sofa, her eyebrows raised in expectation. He stalked toward her slowly and watched a smile spread across Elizabeth's face as he approached. Just when she thought he might sit down beside her, he pounced, forcing her to recline on the furniture as he pinned her with his body.

"Oh!" A cry of surprise came from beneath him. Concerned, Darcy propped himself up on his elbow long enough to inquire as to his lady's well-being. Upon being assured that she was perfectly fine, he proceeded to kiss her as he had before the interruption. His hands moved quickly beneath her skirts where he found her warm and moist to his touch.

"Mmm, please," she whispered hoarsely as she tilted her head back so that he could kiss her neck. Darcy could think of no response but to unfasten his breeches and join with her. "Yes," Elizabeth moaned with delight as their bodies came together at last. His tongue travelled across her décolletage and neck, darting sporadically into her ear as he moved over her rhythmically. Within minutes, her moans had reached a crescendo and her arms were tightening around him as she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, spurring her husband to find his own.

"I love you, Lizzy." His breath was hot in her ear.

"I love you too, Fitz." They lay together on the sofa, contented for some time before finally righting their clothing, unlocking the library door, and going about their day as if nothing untoward had occurred.

The happy couple spent the next several days delighting in each other's company. Darcy eschewed the idea of frequenting a club and instead accompanied his new wife back to the modiste where he insisted that she procure some additional gowns, if only to make up for what she had left behind in Hertfordshire. Still conscious that she might become a financial burden on her new family, Elizabeth avoided ordering many items, using her ignorance of current fashions as an excuse. Her husband gave her the option to postpone, if not decline, an entirely new wardrobe but Elizabeth allowed that she felt under-dressed when strolling through the park, so she let him purchase for her another two gowns, simple enough to suit her taste, but fine enough for her new position. He then proceeded to take her to a jeweller, where she stood uncomfortably as he showed her one expensive item after another and asked her to choose a proper wedding present.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet had never worn much jewellery. She had borrowed a pair of ruby earrings from her mother on the occasion of her coming out in Meryton society and had worn a small garnet cross around her neck from the age of ten until the week after she had become Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. As they stood in the shop, a plethora of jewels spread out around them, Darcy could not stop his hand from drifting to her neck, where his fingers gently traced the hollow of her throat, now empty of adornment.

Although he had not mentioned it at the time out of concern for his wife's emotional well-being, Darcy had noticed when she stopped wearing the necklace. Although they had spoken neither of the cross nor its disappearance, he knew what it must mean to her. He correctly deduced that it had been a gift from her father and that the man's rejection hurt her even more deeply than her tears testified. What he did not know, and could not ask for fear of upsetting her, was whether the necklace had been left at Longbourn or brought with her to her new life as a painful reminder of her old one.

Either way, he supposed, a necklace would suit her admirably. Despite her protests, it was obvious that Elizabeth had certain preferences when it came to jewellery She admired the large, shiny gems, but her eyes did not light up with desire at these more expensive pieces. He noted instead, how she seemed drawn to a thin gold strand with a single winking diamond pendant. It was elegant and refined, yet understated. In a way, it reminded Darcy of his wife and was not surprised that she should like it. She reluctantly acquiesced to its purchase, but refused a pair of matching earrings as too extravagant. They left the store with only one item as Darcy shook his head indulgently at her modesty.

The newly-weds spent every night together in the chamber where Darcy had slept since graduating from the nursery although Elizabeth did use her own dressing room as there was little space in his. Each morning, she would stand, wrapped in her robe, as he checked the hall for servants before she scurried next door to get ready for the day. It felt strange to be sneaking about as though they were doing something wrong, although it would have been stranger indeed for Elizabeth to encounter anybody but her maid while clad in her dressing gown.

Renovations to their future suite were well under way. The new Mrs. Darcy had selected colours for the walls and furnishings that her eager-to-please husband had approved almost without looking. She wondered for a moment if she had decorated it entirely in pink taffeta, what he would have done. She had this thought one evening as she was climbing into bed.

"What is it that amuses you so, Elizabeth?"

Her husband's voice brought to her attention that she had laughed aloud at her recent thought, which only made her smile more. "I am thinking about pink, my love."

"I often consider that colour myself."

"That seems an unusual subject for a gentleman to ponder. Is there any particular shade that captures your notice?" She pulled the counterpane over her lap as she awaited his reply.

He gazed at her from across the room, a wild glint in his eyes and he stalked toward her as he gave his answer. "The first shade of pink that I thought to be my favourite is the colour that paints itself upon your lovely cheeks whenever you have cause to blush." She smiled and he stepped forward, going on. "The next pink I noticed, I found I liked even more, for it is the colour of your lips, all the more pronounced when they are swollen from kissing." The premier shade began to appear on his wife's face at the remembrance of his kisses. "The most delightful shade of pink, however, is one I have never seen on Miss Bennet," she looked at him strangely until he completed his thought, "I have seen it only as a most cherished part of Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy." He reached the bed and tugged the counterpane from her middle. "In fact, I have an overwhelming urge to gaze upon that very colour now."

He grasped the hem of Elizabeth's nightgown and began to pull it upward. She was exposed to the knees before his meaning was fully understood by his still largely innocent wife. "Fitzwilliam!" She admonished him as he sought the colour that lay hidden between her thighs, laughing nervously and causing her blush to deepen.

"I desire to see all my favourite colours of pink every night." Darcy lowered himself to the bed beside her and began kissing her fervently. Elizabeth's embarrassment was nothing to her desire for him, and she reached out to draw him closer. He wrapped his arms around her back, and her nightdress earned a short reprieve, although eventually it was discarded, as was his own apparel in pursuit of the evening's finale.


	12. Chapter 11: Fitzwilliams

_September, 1807_

Mr. Darcy returned to London two weeks after he had quit it, accompanied by his daughter and her governess. The travellers were tired, and although Georgiana spoke excitedly about plans for her time in town, it was necessary for her to retire almost immediately after the meal. Miss Snyder had curtsied politely upon being properly introduced to the new Mrs. Darcy, but gazed at her in a surly manner the entire time they were in company. Elizabeth was relieved when the other woman left to see her charge to bed.

Darcy was taking his wife's arm to escort her out of the dining room when his father requested a private conference. After politely excusing themselves, the gentlemen went to his study to converse. Elizabeth went by herself to the music room, where she had entertained her husband with mediocre playing of the pianoforte most evenings since they had come to London. He certainly seemed to enjoy her performances, but she suspected it was because he stood behind her to turn the pages. She could not fail to notice that his eyes rarely left her bosom on such occasions and although it made her blush, she was not displeased by his attention. Knowing that her father-in-law was used to superior playing, Elizabeth decided to use her time alone to practice without distraction.

The strains of a Haydn sonata trickled through the closed door of the study, causing Darcy to smile in remembrance of the last time his wife had played that particular piece a few days before. She had been wearing a low-cut blue gown and he had not been able to stop himself from leaning forward occasionally to press himself against her back, causing her to miss several notes. Elizabeth was missing notes this time as well, but very few, and with every mistake she would begin a few bars back in order to improve her technique. It was clear to him as a listener that this time was for practice instead of performance, yet there was an emotion to her playing that he could hear even through the walls. As he ruminated upon his wife, he realized he was being addressed.

"Do you not agree?" Mr. Darcy looked at his son expectantly.

The younger man flushed in embarrassment to be caught in a daydream, especially due to the particular subject matter of his thoughts. "I am sorry Sir, I fear I was not attending."

Mr. Darcy sighed and repeated himself. "I was pointing out that it is especially important to conduct yourself with decorum before Georgiana. Do you want her to ask questions regarding marital relations?"

"Of course not, Father."

"I am glad we agree on this issue. You must also recall the proximity of her chamber to your own. I am told that Mrs. Darcy's bed has been unused these past weeks."

Darcy's cheeks burned redder still at his father's lack of prevarication but he could not refute the charge and so nodded just enough to indicate the truth of the statement.

"I shall not attempt a suggestion so useless as that you each keep to your own chambers," his voice held a hint of a warning, "but I will request that you be circumspect in your behaviour until your new suite is prepared for habitation."

"Yes, Sir; of course, Sir." The younger Darcy could look nowhere but his hands as he fidgeted uncomfortably until his father bade him a good night and strode from the room. He followed slowly and heard polite good nights being exchanged in the music room as he approached that place with some apprehension.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth smiled to see her husband enter, "shall we retire as well?"

"Play once for me Lizzy, I could hardly hear you from the study."

"I wish you had not heard me at all! Your father must think me to be the most meagre of talents with all the mistakes I was making tonight."

"I am sure he thinks you to be as lovely as I do. Will you play it through once for me now?" He kissed her gently on the forehead and she smiled in response.

"You must pay for the privilege by turning my pages."

"I will do so happily, Love." Darcy positioned himself behind her and looked down, finding himself to be disappointed when he saw more fabric than skin. "I do not care for this dress, Elizabeth."

She looked down at herself self-consciously. "Is there something lacking in my appearance, Fitzwilliam? I thought this to be a perfectly respectable dress. Oh no, do you think your father and sister -"

Elizabeth was beginning to sound panicked, so he silenced her with a strong hand to her shoulder and a whisper in her ear. "It is very respectable, too much so; it covers your entire décolletage." He kissed the shell of her ear as he leaned over further than necessary to help position the sheet music.

"Is that your only objection to my gown?" She regarded her husband incredulously, annoyed at him for worrying her, but flattered by his teasing.

"Of course, Elizabeth, the colour suits you quite well and from what little I know of ladies' fashions, it does not seem to be outdated. In fact, I approve of it very much for any man's eyes but my own."

"And for your eyes, Sir?"

"Perhaps you have a nightdress that would do or if not," he leaned close to whisper again, "I would be most satisfied to see you wearing nothing at all."

Elizabeth shivered in anticipation, but insisted upon playing the much practised piece once through, as he had requested, before ascending the stairs on her husband's arm. She hoped to impress her father-in-law when she was finally called upon to play before him but had found little time to seriously work on her music when alone with her husband.

Once in his bedroom with his wife, Darcy explained to her, haltingly, his father's warning. She blushed at the idea of his younger sister overhearing them and suggested a temporary abstention, which he quickly rebuffed before becoming concerned.

"Unless you do not wish to – Lizzy, I would never want you to make yourself uncomfortable."

"I am not, Fitz."

"I enjoy being with you, of course, but please do not allow anything that is not desired." He realized that with the exception of the days of her monthly courses, they had been intimate in some way every night since their wedding. Perhaps it was too often. Suddenly, he doubted himself so much that he almost missed her next words.

"Of course not, I do wish . . . I mean, I desire you." Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment but her lips were smiling and he planted a gentle kiss upon them, glad that he had heard what she said despite the fact that her voice had lowered to a whisper. "Shall I then return to my room and call for Jessica to ready me for bed as usual?"

Elizabeth always arrived in his chamber in a nightdress and dressing gown. Darcy found these as easy to remove as any garments, but as he ruminated upon it, even they hardly seemed necessary.

"No."

"No?" She was confused, perhaps he had changed his mind and meant for her to don some more modest garment or even to retire alone in the chamber next door.

"No." Darcy looked into his wife's eyes as he started to unfasten her gown. "You are already here with me and I see no need for nightclothes at all, my love."

"Fitzwilliam!" She averted her gaze from his. "I can hardly go about completely unclothed."

"Of course not Lizzy, you will not go about at all, but only from here to the bed."

Elizabeth wrapped her arms about herself as if to keep her current dress in place and shook her head. "It seems so scandalous, Fitz, to wear nothing at all as if I expect to -"

"Do you not expect just such a thing?" His tone of voice was suggestive and he placed one hand on her back in a loving, if not sensual gesture. "I have been retiring sans nightshirt for some time now, had you not noticed?"

"I suppose I had not truly considered it. How shall I return to my room in the morning, do you expect me to put back on my wrinkled dress?"

"You may borrow my dressing gown."

'"I will look ridiculous." She scoffed then thought for a moment before she acquiesced and turned. "You may help me undress."

Darcy smiled and did just that, pressing kisses to her skin as he exposed her corset. Elizabeth worried momentarily that her maid would be confused when she failed to appear in her dressing room but gentle teeth on her earlobe quickly drove that thought from her mind. She also gave no thought to how badly her gown would wrinkle when left on the floor. Her husband's clothes soon joined hers and they retired to the bed, kissing as they went. The couple had only just managed to get settled when a knock sounded from the dressing room door.

"Sir, do you require assistance?"

Elizabeth's eyes went wide in shock and mortification and hid herself entirely under the bedclothes in case the servant should enter his master's room unbidden. Darcy took a few deep breaths to calm himself, saying a silent prayer of thanks that his wife was unaware of the potentially mortifying event that had occurred the morning of his valet's initial return. "No, thank you Stevens, you are dismissed."

"Very well, Sir." There were a few muffled sounds, including that of a door closing as the man left via a hidden passage to his own quarters.

Once there was silence, Darcy blew out the candles and ducked under the covers to join his wife, finding her only by touch in the inky blackness. Touching her was easy in such a confined space, but it took him a moment to locate her face and position her so that he could kiss her lips. As he kissed her, he pulled her nude body flush against his own, urging her to relax with loving strokes to her back. "No, this is something I can do with no assistance at all." He murmured against her lips, eliciting a slight giggle from the woman beside him. Her giggle became a gasp when he pulled her top leg up and over his own, opening her to his exploration, which turned her gasp into a moan.

Eventually, he could stand no more waiting and gave in to Elizabeth's pleas, which were whispered in deference to their aforementioned familial proximity. They rocked together, entirely hidden from the world until they reached a mutual pinnacle, muffling their cries of delight in a kiss that only added to the pleasure.

Darcy took a few deep breaths and wondered at the intense heat of the moment, which he realized was exacerbated by the bedclothes still surrounding them. He used one arm to free them from their fabric prison while keeping the other tightly around his wife, unwilling to stop touching her for even a moment. He felt her smile against his shoulder as the air around them cooled and pressed a final kiss to the top of her head before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning after breakfast, Mr. Darcy invited his son to accompany him to their club. When the younger man looked distraught at the idea of leaving his wife, she insisted that he join his father as she was perfectly capable of amusing herself. In truth, she expected to be lonely but was afraid to alienate her husband from the only parent either of them had effectively remaining.

Left alone for the day, Elizabeth practised the pianoforte and selected a book to read from her father-in-law's extensive library. She observed some of Georgiana's lessons and happily agreed to join the girl and her governess for a walk in the afternoon. Georgiana was excited to call her new sister "Lizzy" and get to know as much about her as possible. As a friendly and outgoing person, Elizabeth was pleased to indulge her, asking in exchange to hear stories about the youngster's own childhood and that of her brother. Miss Snyder walked alongside the pair, looking disapprovingly from her charge to the newest member of her employer's family. Elizabeth could not help but notice the woman's animosity and did her best to draw her into polite conversation. She discovered only that Miss Snyder's late father had been a gentleman of modest means not entirely unlike her own.

When they returned to the town-house, they found the men had arrived recently as well. Mr. Darcy greeted his daughter warmly and the other women more formally then, apologizing for the short notice, informed Elizabeth that they would be hosting a party of four for dinner the next evening; the Fitzwilliams.

Once his father had finished, Darcy greeted his sister and her governess politely before leading Elizabeth to an adjacent room and kissing her full on the mouth.

"Fitzwilliam, you cannot do such a thing!"

"I certainly can, we are out of view of the others." His voice turned pleading. "I missed you today, Lizzy."

"I missed you as well, Fitz, but now I must go speak with Mrs. Drummond about tomorrow's dinner."

"I am sorry about that, my love. My uncle brought his family to London yesterday as well, minus his mother, and my father was wise to call upon him today. They all desire to meet you and we could hardly disallow it."

"Of course, I presume I am expected to plan this dinner and any future events at Darcy House and Pemberley."

"You are the lady of the house now, Mrs. Darcy."

"I am not Mrs. Darcy though, not in truth." At her husband's alarmed look she hastened to explain. "I am Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy and as you are not the master -"

"It matters not, we have no other hostess. I do not mean to say of course that you are a last resort, I only mean that were I not wed, we would likely host no affairs until Georgiana comes of age. As my mother is no longer with us and besides, was known as Lady Anne, there has been no confusion over the staff calling you by the name Mrs. Darcy. Does it bother you?" He leaned in and added in a teasing voice, "Are you afraid someone will think you to be my father's wife?"

"Fitzwilliam!" She slapped him lightly on the chest but smiled at the silly thought.

"All right Mrs. Darcy, you ought to go arrange a party. I shall see you this evening." He left with a parting kiss to her cheek.

After dinner that evening, Elizabeth was finally called upon to play for her new family. She seated herself nervously at the pianoforte and saw Darcy approach, eager to turn the pages. Before he could reach her however, she made an unexpected gesture.

"Georgie, would you do me the honour of turning pages for me?"

The girl looked surprised, but jumped at the invitation. Her brother scowled a bit, but returned to his chair from which he could watch his wife perform. Without sparing him a look, she began to play. Despite his petulance, he was as enthralled as always by her transcendent playing and singing.

Darcy watched Elizabeth perform and although he knew his opinion was biased, he felt as though he had never heard more beautiful music. She swayed a bit with the rhythm, clearly feeling it through her very bones. Although she made a few errors, she recovered quickly and there was no mistaking the genuine emotion with which she played. Georgiana turned the pages at all the right times, not distracted as he always was when performing that particular task, and appeared to be quite happy to have been included.

When the piece was over, the two gentleman applauded, although one more heartily than the other. Georgiana added to the sound and looked curiously to her governess, who touched her hands together barely enough to count. Soon after, Miss Snyder led her charge up to bed while Elizabeth made polite conversation with the gentlemen.

Mr. Darcy assured her that his late wife's family was grounded, if noble, and that she need not worry too much about impressing them.

"They put on plenty of airs, especially the Earl, but in the end, what will concern them most is whether you are a suitable wife for Fitzwilliam."

"She is, Father, and she makes me very happy." Darcy smiled to dismiss any doubt of his veracity.

"I know, Son." He looked at the couple then off into a corner as he repeated himself softly. "I know."

The next morning, Elizabeth awoke earlier than usual. When her husband tried to coax her into spending a leisurely morning in bed, he found himself rebuffed, a rare event in their very young marriage, and was a bit hurt. He looked at her, confused, as she left the bed in search of her nightgown and robe.

"Are you having your, ah, woman time again?"

"What? Of course not, Fitzwilliam, it has not been long enough since my previous cycle. Why would you think such a thing?"

"The last time you did not wish for my attentions that was the reason, I suppose I thought . . ."

She sighed, exasperated, and dressed as she spoke. "You did not think. If you had, you might realize that no matter how much I love you, I am far too busy today to cater to your whims. Your father invited guests for this evening and I must oversee the preparations and practice my music, for I am likely to be asked to play again this evening."

"I am sorry, Lizzy. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Yes," she leaned over and kissed him gently, "you can act as though I make you happy."

"That shall be the easiest thing in the world, my love. Is there anything else?"

"Stay out of my way."

He did not have time to make his offence known as she tied her dressing gown securely and poked her head out into the hallway. The coast must have been clear, because she slipped out the door and closed it behind her, leaving him alone for the day.

Knowing that he lacked the self-control to keep from distracting his wife, Darcy spent much of the day away from home. He spent some time at his club, engaging in a fencing match to burn off his excess energy, then visited a few shops before he returned in the afternoon. Once at home, he ordered a bath, as fencing had made him feel less than fresh. He dressed in formal attire, allowing Stevens to create as complex a knot as he desired for his master's cravat.

Formally dressed, Darcy stood in the hall outside his wife's door, attempting to discover how close she was to being finished as well. Finding that he could not hear enough to discern her state of readiness, he gave up and knocked on the door, identifying himself and waiting to be invited inside. When Jessica came to the door and admitted that her mistress was decent, he barged in despite a weak attempt by the maid to keep him outside. He saw Elizabeth sitting at her vanity, she was fully dressed but her hair was still down about her shoulders. He had come at just the right time, in his opinion.

Elizabeth did not agree. She stood up and looked at him, mildly irritated, with her hands on her hips. "Fitzwilliam, I am getting ready, our guests will be here soon."

"Is that any way to thank someone who has brought you a gift, Elizabeth?"

"A gift for me? That was unnecessary."

"Of course it was necessary. I could think today of nothing but your beauty and how it might be best displayed." He could not take his eyes from her current display of beauty. Her dress was pale green with enough white lace to make it elegant, but not enough to seem garish. It was one of her new purchases and this was the first time he had seen her wear it, he was enthralled. She wore the pendant he had bought for her and the winking diamond added to her glow. The dress showed off enough of her décolletage to make his mouth water and suddenly, he did not want her spending the evening with anybody else. He opened his mouth, desiring to ask her to remain above stairs with him, but wisely said nothing and instead only extended his hand, holding out for her inspection a small box tied with an elegant ribbon.

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam, what is it?"

"Open it and see, my love."

Elizabeth did so and gasped at what was inside. She had seen the earrings before, at the jeweller. They matched her necklace perfectly and she had secretly wanted them then, but had refused to take advantage of her husband's fortune and generous nature in such a way. When they were presented to her as a gift, however, she could do nothing but smile at him with tears in her eyes. Had her maid not been standing across the room, she might have given in to temptation to do much more. Once the earrings were removed, however, the box was not empty. Darcy removed the silk cloth upon which they had rested and Elizabeth laughed out loud to see such lovely hair pins as the diamond-tipped ones with which she was presented.

"How thoughtful, I . . . Thank you, husband. They shall make me look lovely tonight." She kissed him on the cheek.

"No, my darling, you shall make them look lovely." He kissed her mouth and she blushed, grateful for Jessica's tactful choice to look the other way. "I shall wait for you to be ready, then escort you below stairs."

Elizabeth fidgeted nervously as they awaited the arrival of the Fitzwilliam family. Seeing her distress, Darcy took her hands in his own, kissing them gently, then stroking her fingers to distract her until their guests arrived.

It was not long before Sinclair arrived to announce the nobility that descended upon their home. Darcy performed the necessary introductions and Elizabeth curtsied more deeply than she ever had before. Lord Matlock was not an imposing man at first glance. His build was lean and although he would not be considered diminutive by any means, he was still the shortest man present that evening. His hair was thick and light in colour, it was difficult to tell whether it was fair by nature or he was beginning to show his age. His blue eyes were piercing. Elizabeth felt as though they were boring into her very soul in order to judge her even though he had not said a word.

The Earl's wife was everything he was not. She was several inches shorter than him, but notably wider, at least in certain places. She was too curvaceous for present fashions but flaunted her figure with pride. Her hair was dark, though not as dark as Elizabeth's and of a ruddier hue. She greeted her new niece warmly and shot a disapproving look at her husband when he did not.

Their sons were as alike as two peas at a first glance. Upon further consideration however, Elizabeth could discern many differences between the man she had met in Scotland and the one introduced to her as Lord Spencer Fitzwilliam, Viscount Newton. They were of a height, but varied slightly in build, as Newton was thinner, like his father. He also had a broader nose and had inherited his mother's green eyes.

Finally, Elizabeth turned to the one familiar face in the party and greeted the younger son happily. "Mr. Fitzwilliam, it is wonderful to see you again. I trust your journey home was uneventful."

"Far less eventful than yours, I am sure, Mrs. Darcy. Please, we are cousins now, you must call me only Fitzwilliam, or Richard as the mood strikes you." He ignored his father's throat clearing at such a casual manner and smiled, awaiting Elizabeth's response.

"I am afraid it must be the latter, regardless of my mood. As you know, my husband's Christian name is Fitzwilliam and such a moniker has the potential to be terribly confusing. You then, Cousin Richard, must call me Elizabeth, although I also answer to Lizzy or Eliza should you prefer either of those."

Not long after the new cousins had agreed upon a degree of familiarity, the entire party sat down to dinner. The story of the impromptu wedding was told both from the point of view of the participants and from the panicked outside perspective that Richard Fitzwilliam could provide, which was more humorous in the retelling than it had been at the time. As the latter spoke, conversation turned to the army and the Captain's commission he was to take up in a fortnight. Lady Matlock had disapproving things to say regarding her son's choice of profession. Apparently her father, a baron in Shropshire, had at his disposal a particularly lucrative living that had recently become vacant. Having no ordained close relations, His Lordship was in the process of selling the position, which his daughter seemed to think was a waste.

Lady Matlock was the most verbose of her family, followed closely by her younger son. Not everything she said implied intelligence, but she was friendly by nature and people were drawn to her genuine warmth. Elizabeth was not excepted from this and enjoyed the lady's conversation, which continued despite repeated warning looks from her husband, who seemed not to have learned, even in over a quarter century of marriage, that it was futile to attempt to silence his wife.

After the meal, Georgiana and her governess joined them for dessert. Lord Matlock smiled upon her entrance, but his lips tightened in annoyance as he observed her interaction with her new sister-in-law. Despite not saying a word, he somehow made it clear that the simple, fortune-hunting young woman who had married his nephew was hardly a proper example for his sister's daughter to emulate.

Once Georgiana had returned to the nursery, the gentlemen adjourned to Mr. Darcy's study, from which they emerged some time later smelling faintly of cigars. In the time that they were gone, Elizabeth had managed to strike up a fledgeling friendship with her new aunt, which included plans for a shopping trip the next week. Lady Matlock was certain that a great many things would need to be obtained in order for the young woman to move about properly in society, not the least of which would be a whole wardrobe of new gowns.

When the gentlemen joined them, Elizabeth could not help but notice the angrily set jaw of her husband. Likewise, the clenching fists of his father did not escape her vision. Even Lord Matlock and his younger son were looking at each other warily. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she volunteered to favour them all with a song at the pianoforte and asked her less familiar new cousin to turn pages, as he seemed the least perturbed by whatever had occurred in the study. The viscount agreed, but did so stiffly, looking at her no more than was necessary to coordinate their movements.

She played as well as she ever had and was fairly pleased with herself by the time she finished. The abrupt departure of the Fitzwilliams did put a slight damper on her mood. Neither the patriarch nor his heir had engaged with her more than was strictly polite, although she was pleased to have the formation of a new friendship with Lady Matlock and a continued one with the amiable younger son who seemed less opposed to her marriage now that it was an unassailable fact.

Elizabeth hurried her maid through their routine that night, she was eager to join her husband in his chamber and discover what had so plagued the gentlemen after dinner. Once their guests had left, they had hurried above stairs without a word regarding the strife and Elizabeth knew she would only get information if she confronted her husband directly. With this in mind, she hardly checked the hallway for observers before striding purposefully to the room next door where, as was her habit, she knocked twice then entered without awaiting a reply.

There, she found Darcy already in bed. He was dressed in a nightshirt and pretending to sleep. She could tell that he was awake from the pattern of his breathing for she had lain beside him enough to know what he sounded like when truly asleep. He had left one taper burning beside the bed to help her find her way.

"Fitzwilliam," she leaned over and addressed him, "whatever is the matter?" He did not budge. "You can put me off for tonight, but I will have an answer on the morrow." He responded with what she was certain was a false snore. Giving up, she sighed and crawled into bed beside him, blowing out the candle and plunging the room into darkness. Her curiosity would have to wait until morning. It was the first night since her cycle had ended that they spent the night together so chastely.


	13. Chapter 12: Letter from Home

When Elizabeth woke the morning after the dinner party, she found herself alone in bed. Confused and irritated, she returned to her own chamber and called for Jessica so that she could dress and discover where her husband had gone.

It turned out that both of the Darcy men had gone to their club, so Elizabeth broke her fast alone and spent the morning practising the pianoforte, reading, and observing Georgiana's lessons. That afternoon, the post arrived, bearing a letter from Charlotte Lucas, just moments before the gentlemen walked through the door. Setting her letter aside for later, Elizabeth went to confront her husband regarding his unexplained absence and found him extremely delighted to see her.

"Lizzy, sweetheart, how was your day?"

"Lonely," she replied coldly, "I found myself unexpectedly alone."

"I am sorry about that, my love." He took her arm and led her to the unoccupied drawing room so that they could converse in privacy. "My father insisted that I join him again today, and I must admit that I am pleased that he did, our jaunt was fruitful."

"Did he also insist that you avoid me last night? I know you were not asleep, Fitzwilliam."

"I do apologize, Elizabeth, but after the conversation we had with my uncle, I was hardly in the mood to talk. Then, you asked Spencer to join you at the instrument . . ."

"He was the least frightening one of you at that moment. Besides, I was trying to include him, to encourage a friendship with your cousin. You cannot seriously be jealous!" Her eyes widened at the thought.

"No! Well, yes, perhaps I was, but not due to your attention to my family, that I appreciate. I was a bit envious that he got to stand in such an advantageous position." Darcy's eyes flicked to her bosom, indicating what his cousin was in a position to see.

"Fitzwilliam!" She could not keep a small smile from appearing her face at his tease along with the expected blush. "You are trying to distract me. Tell me about this distressing conversation with your uncle."

He guided her to the sofa where they sat close together, hand in hand for a few moments before he was able to admit what had transpired the evening before. "Once we were alone in my father's study, Lord Matlock had some disparaging things to say about you. He suggested to me that I annul our marriage." Darcy squeezed his wife's hand at her hurt expression, but went on. "I thought at first it was merely because he found your former situation unsuitable, but it turns out that he had certain ambitions for my future that included familial ties to other members of the House of Lords."

"What do you mean?"

"He had not expected me to marry for several years, but when I became ready, he had a handful of future débutantes in mind, all of whose fathers wield a certain amount of political sway."

"Oh Fitzwilliam, how horrible, to use you in such a way." She sympathetically stroked his cheek with her hand. "Or to plan as much, I suppose."

"As upset as I was with him, I do not actually believe that his original plans were malicious. He seemed to genuinely think that I would have been happy to have my pick of eligible ladies. I suspect that he was taken by surprise more than anything and somehow that turned to anger when he realized how I had inadvertently foiled his machinations. It was what he said next that truly upset me since, of course, I gave no credence to his request for an annulment. He questioned your suitability not only as my wife, but as an example for Georgiana. He suggested taking my sister home with him, to be raised in his household away from us and our dubious influence!" Darcy had risen to his feet in anger as he spoke and began to pace. "He dared to suggest that as she is coming to a delicate time in her life, a mother figure would be of great assistance to her and that Lady Matlock could provide – aargh!" He was too upset with his uncle to go on. His earlier good mood seemed to have faded almost instantaneously.

Elizabeth rose as well and wrapped her arms around her husband's torso, effectively stilling his movement. "I take it that he finds mere sisterly guidance to be inadequate, provided it comes from me, of course." He jerked his head into a nod and she held him more tightly. "How did your father respond?"

"My father, thankfully, defended you, although not as violently as I would have. He told his Lordship," she noted that he seemed to be deliberately avoiding referring to his uncle as such, "that Georgiana had been under his perfectly acceptable paternal care for her entire life and that her situation could only improve with the addition of a sister."

"I must admit that I am both grateful and surprised, I was unaware that your father thought so well of me."

Darcy wrapped his arms around his wife so that they were standing together in a tight embrace. "Perhaps he does not yet know you well enough to love you, but I have no doubt that he soon will, it hardly took me long; you are a wonderful woman, Lizzy. Besides, he has faith in my ability as a judge of character and clearly, I have judged you to be eminently worthy."

"What of your cousins, did they add to the discussion at all?"

"How diplomatic of you to call it a discussion instead of a row. Spencer said not a word the entire time, he just puffed on his cigar and watched the events unfold. I suppose all of the discord meant little to him – he shall still have his pick of wives. Richard told Lord Matlock that you are a well-bred and intelligent young woman whom Georgiana would be fortunate to emulate." Elizabeth smiled. "That comment earned him his father's wrath and the earl blustered on about cutting Richard off and selling his commission before he even has a chance to begin it."

"Oh no!"

"Do not worry yourself, Elizabeth, he will carry out none of his threats."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We encountered him at the club today and he was perfectly sedate. He made no mention at all of the incident last night. Although he did not specifically apologize for his words to us or about you, he politely, if a bit tersely, inquired after your health and said nothing at all disparaging. Also, I have it from another gentlemen that he described you as 'a genteel sort of lady, if a bit young' when asked."

"So he is pretending to approve of me then, for appearances?"

"Apparently; I know that he, like my father, would never allow outsiders to get wind of any familial disagreement. Perhaps he is still internally furious and we need only avoid him at private gatherings. Alternately, he may have just needed to vent his spleen over his disappointment and now he has realized that my marriage is none of his business. He could be perfectly polite when next you meet, even within the walls of Darcy or Matlock house."

They agreed to assume the best for the moment and shared a kiss before going to join the others for tea.

Later, Elizabeth recalled her letter from Charlotte and sought a place to read it in peace, eventually settling on the stone bench in the small private courtyard. She was eager to discover how her sisters had reacted to the news of her marriage and was full of anticipation as she broke the seal. It was not long before her face fell and tears gathered in her eyes.

Meryton, Hertfordshire

8th September

Dear Mrs. D.,

It has taken me a few days to consider what to tell you about the reception of your letter by your family, or more specifically, your father. I was beyond pleased to read your words, what a wonderful reason to neglect your correspondence. As a married woman, I suppose you shall be too busy to write as often as I might hope, but I do wish to continue to exchange letters with you, even after you read what happened to your last one.

I was sorry to hear about your father's reaction to your marriage. I wonder; if your mother had been present, would she have been able to sway his thinking? You know how she, like my own mother, has been so very eager to see her daughters well-married. I regret to inform you that Mr. Bennet is still very angry. He had not, in fact, told the rest of your family anything at all about your return. The entire neighbourhood, your mother and sisters included, believed you to still be on holiday in Scotland with your relations. I cannot help but wonder how long he expected to allow the ruse to continue.

The very day I received your letter, I rushed to Longbourn to share the good news. I was in the garden with Jane, who had only had time to read your greeting before the sheet was ripped from her hands by your father, the lack of your full name did not hide from him its writer. I have never seen him so angry. Although I begged Mr. Bennet to return the missive to me, he tore it into so many pieces that had I not already copied down your direction, you might never hear from me again. He admitted that he could hardly forbid me from corresponding with you, as I am not of his household, but he could keep his daughters from my company should I attempt to pass any messages from you to them. You must know, Eliza, that I treasure my friendship with Jane as much as the one you and I have always shared, so I was at a loss regarding what to do. At that time, I agreed to acquiesce to his demands and went home without speaking any further about you to your dearest sister.

Fear not, however; since that time, I have managed to tell Jane that you are returned from your holiday and in a new home. I have told her that you are happily married, though against your father's wishes, and that you still love her very much. I have neglected to tell her your direction for fear that our communication might be discovered, although I am quite certain that she would wish to write to you herself. For all that I love Jane, she is hardly the best keeper of secrets, a consequence, I believe, of her sweet and trusting nature. I do have her assurance that she will make it known to your mother and younger sisters that you are well at least, I only wish that I had better news to share.

As for my family, we all are doing well. John has finished his first year at Oxford, where he learned what he believes to be everything of import, it seems. Maria desires to learn the pianoforte, which my mother is trying to teach her despite having meagre talents herself. I may, in fact, be able to visit London briefly next season. I am dependent, of course, upon my father's schedule, although I know that he would have to be busy indeed to forgo an invitation to dance at St. James. I shall keep you informed of our plans. I do hope to see you in town then.

Always your friend,

Charlotte Lucas

It was a quarter of an hour later that Darcy found his wife crying in the courtyard. She was startled to feel arms encircle her, but once she ascertained his identity, she relaxed into the embrace and sobbed against his chest. Elizabeth was distraught, not only by the continued cruelty of her father, but also by her own reaction to it. She was not a melancholy person by nature and had found her greatest happiness as the wife of the man who now held her lovingly in his arms; yet she had shed more tears since her marriage than she recalled ever having cried before in her life. Perhaps this was why his family disliked her. Who would not have their doubts about the dowry-less daughter of a country gentleman who was so immature as to burst into tears at a moment's notice? Clinging to this realization and determined to overcome such a characterization, she took a few shuddering breaths and did her best to stem the flow from her eyes.

"Whatever is the matter, Lizzy, did your friend send you some bad news?" Darcy asked, once she had calmed enough to hear him. He felt her nod against his chest, but she gave no verbal response. She did place her letter, slightly crumpled, in his hand so that he might better understand her sadness. He read it quickly, then stuffed it into his pocket so that he could put both arms back around her as he rocked her comfortingly.

After a while, he ventured to look into her eyes, holding her chin gently as he tipped her face up toward his own. There was a sadness there, but he could also see determination. She rose and strode back to the house, tailed by her confused husband.

Instead of taking the evening meal in her rooms, as Darcy had suggested she might wish to do, Elizabeth chose to dine in company and there was no visible trace of her earlier upset as she engaged her father-in-law in a conversation about books. After dinner, the gentlemen played chess and Elizabeth wrote a lengthy letter to her aunt as Georgiana practiced a particularly difficult piece on the pianoforte. Her new music master was to attend her the next week, and she could hardly wait. The young girl had been rehearsing to the point of neglecting her other lessons, much to the consternation of her governess.

When it was time to retire for the evening, Darcy escorted his wife up the stairs. She entered her room and performed her toilette, appearing in his chamber at the usual time. He rose to greet her, but she motioned for him to sit back down, which he obeyed. Without words, she shed her robe and sat upon his lap clad only in her nightgown.

"Elizabeth, what -"

"Just hold me now, please."

He was happy to do so and they sat in silence for a while before Elizabeth announced that she was ready to retire. Before climbing into bed, she removed her single garment and looked at him expectantly. He hastened to join her in her state of undress but as they lay together beneath the counterpane, barely touching, he could not help but ask a serious question.

"Lizzy, would you like to talk about the letter you received today?"

"No."

"Sweetheart, I know you must be feeling -"

"You know nothing!" She wrung her hands in frustration as she sat up in bed, pulling away from him. "I am not even truly upset with my father, I know that it is his way once he has made up his mind to never back down from his stance, no matter how ludicrous. I am disappointed only with myself for believing that he might, as if I did not know him as well as I do – as I did." Her chest heaved with the effort of expressing her feelings in such a manner and her husband did his best not to stare, but his gaze was involuntarily held by the sight of her rose-tipped breasts shaking with her barely controlled ire. The sheet pooled at her waist and bared every inch of her delectable torso. Darcy finally managed to tear his eyes from the attractive sight and notice the anguish in his wife's eyes.

"Oh, Lizzy, no. You must not feel that you are wrong for thinking the best of people; for hoping he might be able to rejoice in your happiness, or at least be tolerant of it." He sat up as well and drew her into his arms, doing his best to ignore the sensual feeling of flesh against flesh. He felt her tremble against him and pulled back to ask if she was chilled. Elizabeth spoke before he could.

"I do not need to dwell upon an upset, what I need is for you to love me."

"Of course I love you, Elizabeth, I will always love you."

"I mean, I need you to show me your love," she hesitated, mildly embarrassed before whispering her explanation, "physically."

Darcy did not have to be asked twice. It was indeed convenient that her need so closely matched his own, and he whispered as much into her ear as he pulled her down to lie flat on the bed. He rolled her beneath him and kissed her deeply. When they broke apart for air, his lips returned to her ear where they spoke words of love and devotion as his hands caressed her body. He recalled his father's warning to mind their volume and bit back a loud groan when Elizabeth's hands stroked across his hips and toward his groin where she could not help but touch his manhood. She could feel how hard he was, and encouraged him to enter her, which he happily did. Her hands moved to grab at his posterior, pulling him into her with a sort of desperation and she made little effort to remain silent as she rose toward her peak.

Eventually, Darcy was forced to cease his whispered declarations of love in order to muffle her moans with his own mouth as he kissed her, gently at first then more deeply as he heard a shriek about to escape when she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure. His completion came shortly afterwards and he gasped out a final declaration of his love against her flushed cheek. He rolled onto his back, keeping Elizabeth as close as possible. She looked down at him and smiled for a moment before her eyes went wide with a realization.

"Oh, Fitz, I am sorry, I forgot to be quiet!"

"It is all right, Lizzy, I do not think anyone heard anything."

"I just needed you so much, I did not think." Her eyes began to fill with the tears she had held at bay throughout the evening they spent with his family. "I could not bear it if your father hated us as mine does."

"Shh, no, do not concern yourself with that." He dabbed at her eyes with the sheet and murmured encouraging words as he stroked her back. Eventually she spoke again.

"Our new rooms will be ready soon, I suppose we shall not have to worry so much then."

Darcy smiled. "No, they are at the farthest end of this wing, I would have to make you scream to high heaven before Georgiana's childhood would be disturbed by our love."

"Is that something you expect to attempt?" Elizabeth laughed, her tears nearly forgotten as she slid off of him, settling herself instead along his side.

"It certainly is, I am making plans as we speak."

"I shall count on it, my love." She pressed a kiss to his chest and snuggled closer along his body. They both fell asleep with smiles upon their faces.

On Monday, Elizabeth went on a shopping trip with Lady Matlock, who made no mention of any objection her husband might have to the endeavour. Once at the modiste, she was amazed to hear the list of things that the countess claimed were necessary for the wife of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

She lost track of the amount of clothing that was commissioned; gowns of all sorts among other things. She needed dresses for mornings and evenings, for summer and winter, for riding and paying calls and attending the theatre. Also, she was to have new bonnets and nightgowns and under-things as well as a fur-lined pelisse and muff. In truth, Elizabeth hardly knew half of what was ordered. She allowed the seamstress to take her measurements and gave her opinion regarding colours and cuts, but she was unfamiliar with the most current fashions and her new aunt seemed to take great delight in informing her of the latest styles and how they would compliment her figure.

Elizabeth was not privy to the total cost that was to be billed to her father-in-law and she was not sure whether to be grateful for her ignorance or afraid that she had spent too much. Certainly, it could not reflect well on her to be so expensive only one month into her marriage. Lady Matlock insisted that they had only ordered what was needed for her new life and waved her hand dismissively when Elizabeth expressed concern over the expense.

When they arrived back at Darcy House late that afternoon, Lady Matlock reluctantly declined Elizabeth's invitation to stay for tea, since she had a dinner engagement for which to prepare, but promised to see her again soon. It was clear that she had greatly enjoyed shopping with the younger woman and bade her farewell fondly.

Elizabeth entered the house and was nearly bowled over by an excited Georgiana, fresh from her first lesson with Mr. Archer, the pianoforte master. She took her sister-in-law by the hand and nearly dragged her into the music room where her brother and father had been watching her practice incessantly since the man's departure. Miss Snyder sat in a corner, her lips set in a tight line as she attended to some needlework in silence. Elizabeth could not help but notice that the governess's bosom seemed to be a bit more on display than propriety might dictate in such a situation.

Both men rose when Elizabeth came into the room and Darcy stepped forward to kiss her hand. The moment his lips touched it, however, his brow furrowed in concern, her skin seemed clammy and he raised his head to inquire as to the reason when he saw her stumble. Had he not already been holding her hand, he might have been unable to catch her when she fell. The last thing Elizabeth heard before her world went black was her husband's voice calling out her name in terror.

When Elizabeth opened her eyes, she saw three blurry faces above her as she lay on the sofa. She tried to tell who was whom even before they came into focus. The closest face was the smallest, the blonde girl leaning over her was hardly difficult to identify. Both her husband and his father were further away however, standing at their full height, and from such a distance she thought that each one really looked quite like the other.

They argued in loud whispers, Darcy sounding desperate as he insisted a doctor be called immediately; his father attempting to reason with the distraught man, explaining that they ought to give her a few minutes to come to on her own before panicking. Darcy spun around and looked ready to ride for the doctor himself when Elizabeth managed to croak out his name. He fell to his knees before her and grabbed her hand, kissing it all over.

"Elizabeth, thank the Lord you are awake! I shall call for a doctor immediately, would you like to go upstairs?" He moved one arm behind her shoulders as if to lift her.

"No, thank you Fitzwilliam, I shall be fine. Your father was right to wait, I am only tired, there is no need to trouble anybody."

Mr. Darcy had not wished to encourage his son's panic but neither did he want to risk Elizabeth's health. "Mrs. Darcy, if you feel unwell, someone can be called at once. It is no trouble at all, I merely wished to allow you time to come to on your own so that we could ascertain your need."

"That was wise, Sir. How long was I unconscious?" She looked first into her husband's worried eyes, but finding no answer there, turned back to his father who responded that it had been only a few brief moments.

"I am sorry for worrying everybody, but there is no need at all for a doctor, it was only a bit of exhaustion, and an uncharacteristic bit at that, I would not have you all think that I am prone to fainting fits. Fitzwilliam will you please allow me to sit up?" Darcy's arms were clasped about her in a fierce embrace, which Elizabeth thought felt very nice, but did not give her the freedom to move. He guided her to a sitting position, then placed himself on the sofa beside her, keeping one arm around her in a possessive manner that still felt quite improper for company. "I do not require a doctor, but might I perhaps have some tea?"

The beverage was sent for and while they waited for it to arrive, Elizabeth assured everyone that she was perfectly well. "I spent the whole day poring over fashion magazines and fabric swatches, Lady Matlock took me to nearly a dozen different shops and I did not eat much this morning." She looked directly into her husband's eyes and asked them all not to worry. "In truth, I am a bit embarrassed that you were witness to my folly." It did not escape her attention that Miss Snyder remained at her needlework, not having spoken a word since her homecoming.

Despite her claim of perfect health, Elizabeth was relieved that Mrs. Drummond poured the tea without question. As the lady of the house, Elizabeth had taken to performing the duty, but feared at that moment that she might drop the teapot and further embarrassment was the last thing she needed that afternoon. After a few small cakes and two cups of tea, she pronounced herself fully recovered, but was grateful when Darcy offered to escort her upstairs. Once they were in his chamber, he summoned a maid and ordered that their dinner be brought up on a tray that evening.

Both before and after they had their meal, Darcy continued to fuss over his wife until she thought she could take it no more. She insisted over and over that she was merely tired despite his concern of something more dangerous. Finally, Elizabeth managed to calm him down by agreeing to put on her nightgown and lie in bed. She insisted that in return for her acquiescence, he had to read to her, a condition to which he readily agreed.

Since she truly was quite exhausted, Elizabeth did not manage to stay awake through a full chapter of the book, interesting as it was. Darcy smiled at his sleeping wife and went to his dressing room, donning his own nightshirt as quietly as possible before joining her in the bed. As it was still relatively early, he watched her sleep peacefully for quite some time before finally drifting off as well.


	14. Chapter 13: Revelations

The next morning, Elizabeth awoke fully rested and ready to face the day. After kissing her already awake and concerned-looking husband, she rose and used his robe to cover herself more thoroughly. With a small wave farewell, she darted out into the hallway to return to her own chamber and summon her maid.

Darcy fidgeted throughout his shave and dressed as quickly as possible before rushing to Elizabeth's room. He knocked on the door twice to no answer before entering. Scowling at the empty bedroom, he made his way downstairs to join the family for breakfast, where he found his bright-eyed wife already partaking heartily. How she could have prepared herself for the day before he did was a mystery but he chose not to inquire. Darcy said little throughout the meal and did not take his eyes off of Elizabeth the entire time. When his father left for the club, the young man declined to join him and instead remained in the sitting room watching Elizabeth at her needlework.

"Fitzwilliam, I am in perfect health, you ought to join your father."

"I do not wish to be parted from you today, Lizzy. Please do not ask me to go."

"I shall ask you only to think of your own amusement, a day at home with ladies is likely to be quite dull for you." She smiled at Georgiana, also engaged in needlework across the room.

"If I was to spend the day with ordinary ladies, that would surely be true, but here are my very favourite ladies in the world together in one room." He did not catch Miss Snyder's triumphant smile at her assumed inclusion, but Elizabeth did. She politely chose not to call attention to the governess and instead thanked her husband for the compliment and returned to her task.

It did not take long before Darcy, despite his pronouncement, was quite bored indeed. He began to pace the room, desirous to start a conversation, but unsure of whether he was permitted to interrupt the sewing to do so. The only sound, beside his heavy boots across the floor, was Miss Snyder's voice instructing Georgiana in how to improve her stitching.

"Fitzwilliam, if you cannot be still, perhaps this sitting room is not the place for you."

"My place is beside you always, Elizabeth, you and Georgiana of course." He glanced fondly at his sister, who looked up from her lap and acknowledged him with a smile.

"You may stay beside me only if you can sit there and not pace. Do you not have a book you might read, or the newspaper perhaps?"

Darcy was slightly insulted but did understand her reasoning so he sat back down beside his wife and called for the day's paper to be brought to him. They spent some time after that in a more comfortable silence.

That afternoon, Mr. Archer arrived for Georgiana's next pianoforte lesson. Darcy could not help but see the interest that lit up Elizabeth's face when her sister-in-law asked her to sit in on the lesson. He briefly took the man aside and asked if he would consider taking on a second pupil from their household. Eager to please, Mr. Archer negotiated a new price and agreed to teach music to the gentleman's wife as well.

Once Georgiana's lesson was complete, the music master asked Mrs. Darcy to favour them with a turn at the instrument. He gauged her skill level to be somewhat higher than he had feared, although still lower than that of his other Darcy pupil. He taught her some new exercises and gave her a piece to practice for their next lesson.

After Mr. Archer had left, Elizabeth embraced her husband happily and without thought to any onlookers. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for such an opportunity!"

He leaned in to kiss her, but suddenly wary of their audience, stopped himself and stepped back and took her hand, pressing the kiss to her fingertips instead in a proper manner. If Elizabeth was disappointed at this behavior, she did not show it.

While the Darcy family had been below stairs that day, the servants had been hard at work above them. The refurbished second floor suite had been completed and Jessica and Stevens had been working together with footmen to move the belongings of their master and mistress to the new location.

After dinner, when the young couple was ready to retire, Mrs. Drummond informed them of the change and they were eager to settle into their new chambers.

Having chosen all of the furnishings herself, Elizabeth was not surprised by what she saw but she was pleased at how well it looked. Her things had been put away in the larger room as they had agreed after some discussion. She had initially assumed that he would prefer the room as his own but he had pointed out that his "visit" to her chamber was likely to last a very long time, so it had best be able to accommodate the both of them. She had blushed at that, but agreed.

Before preparing for bed, Elizabeth insisted on walking throughout the entire newly appointed suite, admiring how it had turned out and appreciating the care their servants had taken to lay out their personal effects in a familiar manner. She ended her short tour in her own dressing room, where she thanked Jessica for her hard work as the maid prepared her for bed.

Elizabeth was not in her chamber long before a knock sounded from the door that connected the two bedrooms. "Who is there?" She asked, although she was certain that she knew the answer already.

"It is your lover, come to steal you away." Her favourite voice answered from the other side.

"Be quick about it then," she countered with a laugh, "for my husband will be here soon and we must make good our escape before he arrives."

Darcy came through the door before responding. "Your husband will be no obstacle, Madam. I believe you have been known to best him with a sword."

Elizabeth dissolved into a fit of giggles and, pleased by the sight, the man who was in fact both her husband and her lover eagerly joined her on the bed.

"This room is very far from Georgiana's." He whispered in her ear before kissing it.

"Hmm," she responded happily, tipping her head so that he would kiss her neck as well.

He could not resist her invitation, but then moved his lips back to her ear. "My father's is rather distant as well."

"Well then, Fitz, I think you must try to make me scream with pleasure, as promised." Elizabeth still surprised herself with her boldness at times and moved to loosen the laces of her nightdress before pulling away from her husband so that she could remove it completely.

Darcy, too, undressed himself quickly so that he could return to kissing his wife as soon as possible. He stroked her smooth skin and was about to position her beneath him, when he had another idea and rolled in the opposite direction so that she was lying atop his body.

"Do you remember this, Lizzy, from our honeymoon?" Judging by the blush that crept over her cheeks, she did and he caressed her hip as he encouraged her to sit up so that she might be in the right position to take him inside her body.

Elizabeth was more confident this time and took control with little hesitation. She moved in a way that pleased them both and leaned down to kiss her prone husband, eliciting a groan as her shift in position produced a myriad of sensations. He wanted to stroke the pearl between her legs, but their closeness prevented him from accessing it properly with his hand. Still, she seemed to be experiencing plenty of sensations, judging by the moans that came from her lips whenever they were disengaged from his own.

"Fitz, oh, Fitz, I love you!" She did not truly scream, but neither was she quiet as she hit her peak. Darcy was not there yet, and encouraged her to roll over since, spent, she was no longer moving upon him. He found his release after a few thrusts and was similarly vocal in doing so.

They settled next to each other, snuggling together to spend their first night in their new secluded chamber.

Since Elizabeth's health seemed not to have suffered from her brief episode two days before, Darcy agreed to join his father at the club the next day and continued doing so throughout the week. One afternoon, they encountered the Fitzwilliam sons there and were invited to join them for a drink.

The level of liquid in the decanter decreased and the laughter increased as they shared amusing stories, mostly at the expense of each other. The young men seemed to forget about Mr. Darcy's presence and told some racy stories as well. Further into his cups than the others, Richard Fitzwilliam began sharing with the others the educational conversation he had had with Darcy during their trip to Scotland. Embarrassed, his cousin tried to stop him, to no avail.

"If the inn where we stopped for lunch had lacked paper, I could never have drawn him a picture, then where would he have been on his wedding night?" He laughed so hard he began to cough. His brother slapped him on the back and Fitzwilliam continued. "You know, I think your Lizzy owes me a note of thanks for not letting her marry a bumbling fool; and what a fool you would have been too, as innocent as the blushing bride herself." He snorted with laughter before taking another drink.

Mr. Darcy, who had remained mostly quiet throughout the conversation, felt the need to speak up at this, slightly startling the men about him when they remembered the presence of their elder. "Surely when at University, you knew the touch of a woman, Son?"

Darcy flushed and mumbled something about the sin of fornication. Not easily satisfied, his father questioned him more directly. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, tell me, did you lie with any woman before you went to Scotland?"

There was silence for a full minute as Darcy blinked in surprise at the frankness of his father's question as the older man awaited his answer. "No, I have never known a woman not my wife." He finally admitted in a strange tone which somehow mixed embarrassment with pride.

"How is that possible, what about Miss Davis?"

"I know no such person."

"Miss Julia Davis, the daughter of a vicar in Essex." Mr. Darcy looked at his son carefully, as if willing him to betray some lie.

"I suppose her name does sound a bit familiar, have you perhaps mentioned her on a previous occasion? Are you acquainted with her father?"

"Fitzwilliam," Mr. Darcy placed his hands on the young man's shoulders and looked directly into his eyes, "I would like you to swear to me, if it is truly so, that you have had no carnal knowledge of any woman besides Mrs. Darcy. If it is not the case, I promise that I will not be angry, but I need to know the truth."

"I pledge upon all that is holy, Father, that I have committed neither the sin of fornication nor adultery."

Mr. Darcy looked at his son thoughtfully for a few moments, then rose, immediately seeming more sober than his number of drinks might suggest. "I will call for the carriage, it is time for us to home." He bade farewell to his nephews in an almost distracted manner before leaving the room, clearly expecting his son to follow.

The carriage ride back to the town house was a quiet one and once they arrived, Mr. Darcy demanded his son's attendance in his study, where he went to a drawer and produced a calling card embossed with the younger man's name.

"Is this your card?"

"Yes, Sir. You know that of course, they were provided by you." Darcy was already confused at his father's line of questioning.

"How might a young woman come into possession of such a card?"

"I suppose I might have given it to her. Although, as I am not in the habit of calling on young ladies, I cannot recall any to whom I have given a card of late. It would be possible for a lady to get my card from her father or brother, I suppose."

"Do you know Dr. Davis, of Essex? He has a living near Chelmsford."

"No, Sir, not to my recollection."

"He is the father of the Miss Davis in question."

"Why do you continue to ask me questions about this woman whom I have not met?"

"Because, Son, she claims to have met you."

"Perhaps then I simply do not recall having made her acquaintance. Is it terribly important?" Darcy was at a loss to why his father seemed to be talking in circles. The man was usually so forthright, this uncharacteristic evasiveness was disconcerting. Also, the alcohol he had imbibed so recently was not aiding in his ability to comprehend.

"You would, no doubt, recall her had she told me the truth. Miss Davis gave me your card as proof that she knew you, otherwise I might not have believed her for it is a serious charge she lays at your feet."

"A charge, Father; what am I said to have done?" Darcy could feel himself sobering a bit at the vague accusation.

"Miss Davis is with child, Fitzwilliam, and she has named you as the perpetrator." He could not help but notice the genuine shock on his son's face at such a revelation. "She had this card as well as one of the handkerchiefs that your mother monogrammed for you." Mr. Darcy paused and allowed grief to wash over him for a moment at the reminder of his wife's passing.

"I did lose one of those while I was away at school, I admit that I purposely did not tell you of its disappearance. Although it is not an expensive object, it means . . ." He could not finish his thought and trailed off instead.

Mr. Darcy ignored this small fact and chose to explain himself. "You recall that I was away to London when you arrived at Pemberley after your marriage. Were you informed of the reason?"

"I was told it was a matter of business, but you have never discussed it with me."

"Family business, yes, and I hardly knew how to bring it up after you told me of your marriage. I had originally planned to chastise you, perhaps even suggest you marry the girl, although she is hardly of our circle, not entirely unlike -"

"I know you were displeased with my choice of Elizabeth, Sir, but she is a gentleman's daughter," his father nodded in acquiescence, "and my wife. My wife to whom I am faithful."

"Of course, Son. I regret that I believed Miss Davis without consulting you, but I spoke to the young lady personally and I must say that I saw no deceit in her."

Darcy considered the situation for a moment. "How far is her father's parsonage? Might I meet with the young lady myself? I would like to know why she has chosen to slander me in such a manner."

"I shall write to her father immediately, Fitzwilliam. It is less than thirty miles from here. We can make the journey there and back in one day this time of year. I do believe, however, that we ought not to arrive unannounced, although perhaps I should imply that I will come alone. If this is some sort of elaborate ruse on their part, I would not like to allow them time to prepare."

Pondering all that had been said that afternoon, Darcy felt an immediate need for the comforting presence of his wife. He heard the pianoforte and, after listening for a moment, felt that he could positively identify the player and so headed toward the music room.

Elizabeth was practising when she heard her husband enter the room. She looked up at him and smiled, missing a note as she did so. Instead of starting the passage over, she stopped playing and stood, going to greet him. Grabbing Darcy by the hands and walking him over to the sofa, she began telling him all about her lesson that afternoon. She chattered on excitedly for a few moments before she noticed his stony silence.

"Fitzwilliam, would you like to tell me about your day with your father?" He shook his head. "Was there no interesting to-do at your club? I admit that I have been wondering what exactly it is that men do there. It is my guess that they either play billiards and chess all day long or gossip as much as women." She could not help but notice his sharp intake of breath at her latter guess. "Fitzwilliam, was there talk about us, is that what has upset you?"

"I do not wish to discuss it, Elizabeth."

"All right," she rose to leave the room and noted that he did not stand up, which was strangely impolite and out of character, "I shall be in the green sitting room when you are ready to talk."

Darcy grabbed her by her wrist and gave a tug as she attempted to walk by, upsetting her balance enough so that she ended up on his lap where he promptly put his arms around her. Startled, Elizabeth did not fight him, but only sat there as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips against her hair. He murmured something that she thought might be "I love you, Lizzy," and although she had been irritated at his childish behaviour, she recognized that he needed her assurance, and so whispered that she loved him too. They stayed in that position until there was a sound in the hallway, suggesting that someone was about to enter the room. Elizabeth hopped off her husband's lap just in time to prevent embarrassment when Georgiana and Miss Snyder joined them.

The next few days were strange between the young couple. Although they spent their days agreeably in each other's company and their nights were still filled with the passion of newly-weds, Elizabeth felt as though there was something missing between them. After dinner, Darcy always turned pages for her at the instrument and they spent time together as a family, but it was as though there was something missing. He did not speak to her as he had been, it was as if he was keeping a secret, and this bothered his wife.

Elizabeth felt, if not actually deceived, at least excluded from her husband's deepest concerns, and this did not sit well with her. Upset about being left in the dark, she confronted her husband one night before bed.

"What is happening, Fitzwilliam?"

He drew back his hands as if confused about her question. "I thought that you would recognize by now, the act of undressing."

She smiled briefly at his jest, but quickly remembered she meant to be severe and so schooled her features in that manner. "I am in earnest, Fitzwilliam. Something is upsetting you and you have not made me privy to it. As your wife, am I not entitled to know your concerns?"

He looked at her incredulously. "I was unaware that I was letting my feelings show so much. I never meant to lie to you, Elizabeth, I only wished to withhold the upsetting and confusing truth until I had all of it to give you. I shall know everything soon; tomorrow, even."

"What momentous event occurs on the morrow?"

Darcy took her by the hand so they both sat on the edge of the bed and he turned to look into her eyes. "In the morning, I shall depart from London with my father, we have an important call to make. I have an idea of what has occurred, but I will not know for certain until I have spoken with the other involved party. I promise to tell you all tomorrow night, once I can be sure of all the facts."

Elizabeth sighed and turned away from her husband, situating herself beneath the coverlet before speaking again. "I suppose you need your rest then, Fitzwilliam. You have an important voyage on the morrow."

He joined her in bed and kissed her temple, wrapping his arms around her unresisting nightgown-clad body as they both drifted off to sleep.

Early the next morning, Darcy rose from bed as silently as possible. He met Sinclair in his dressing room, hoping that it was far enough from Elizabeth's chamber that he would not risk waking her.

After making a brief stop in the master's study to collect something, Darcy shared a quick breakfast with his father. They were astride horses and riding toward Essex while the sun was still just beginning to peek above the horizon.

It was several hours later that Mr. Darcy knocked on the door of a small but well-kept parsonage. His son waited with the horses at his instruction, and it appeared to the housekeeper who answered the door that the older man had arrived alone. He was shown into the sitting room to wait for a few minutes before Dr. Davis arrived, his brow furrowed as he regarded the guest.

"Mr. Darcy, welcome to my home, have you come to reconsider my matrimonial request?" When they had met the month before, the minister had accepted Mr. Darcy's offer to pay for the upbringing and education of their mutual grandchild, but had been disappointed that the gentleman had not agreed to insist upon a marriage between its parents. He had, at least, agreed to consider the proposal.

"I am sorry, Sir, but my business is of a different nature entirely. In fact, even if I wished for such an outcome, it could never occur for my son is now married."

"Married? You said naught of an engagement when we last met. Has your son been such a rake as to compromise another young lady, perhaps one with loftier connections than my Julia?" He was clearly angry at the slight to his daughter.

"No, although he was married in Scotland before we initially met, I was not aware of the union until afterwards. Mrs. Darcy is a gentleman's daughter, but I had not made her acquaintance before she became a part of my family. To my knowledge, she carries no child and I know nothing of any compromising situation." Mr. Darcy looked sternly at the other man so that he would understand no further questions were to be asked about his son's wife. "I have come to speak with Miss Davis, is she available?" The two men looked at each other for several moments before the minister acquiesced and went to call his daughter.

Julia Davis was a pretty young woman with glossy blond hair and light blue eyes. She was of smaller stature than Elizabeth and when she moved, her dress clung to her figure enough to betray her fecund state. She curtsied awkwardly to Mr. Darcy and took a seat at her father's insistence as she regarded their guest with some apprehension.

Mr. Darcy sat across from the young woman and began. "Miss Davis, I understand that you are in a regrettable situation and that you are not the only one at fault. I wonder however if my son truly is, as you have stated, the other guilty party."

Dr. Davis rose quickly, his face reddened with anger. "Are you calling my daughter a liar? I will not stand for such slander in my own home!"

"I am sorry to insult you, Sir, but I have spoken to my son, and as his version of events contradicts hers, one must be a falsehood."

"What tale does your blackguard of a son tell? Perhaps that my daughter seduced him or that she had other lovers? Lies!" The clergyman's fists were clenched in fury.

His guest rose so that he could look the angry man in the eyes. His face was impassive as he spoke calmly. "My son tells no tale at all. In fact, he claims not to have ever made your daughter's acquaintance."

At this, Miss Davis burst into tears. "He said that he loved me, he promised we would be married. I showed you his card and his handkerchief, what more proof can you ask of me?"

Mr. Darcy handed the young woman his own handkerchief to wipe her tears, thinking to himself again that she hardly seemed a schemer. It occurred to him suddenly that perhaps she was not. Perhaps it was she, in fact, who had been deceived. "Miss Davis," he addressed her gently once she had calmed a bit, "I never asked you to describe your lover, my son as you knew him."

The young woman spoke through sniffles, but acquiesced. "He is taller than my father, close to your height perhaps. His hair, too, is not unlike your own. His nose is a bit broader though, and he has a cleft in his chin."

Mr. Darcy knew at that moment that she was not describing his son but he had a suspicion as to whom she might be referring. "His eyes, what colour are his eyes?" His voice had gone hoarse.

"Mostly green, but with some brown to them." She got a dreamy look on her face. "They always reminded me of the woods."

"Would you excuse me for a moment, please?" He spoke to the housekeeper, who had been waiting just outside the door and a few moments later, the younger Darcy was escorted into the house.

"Please, Miss Davis, can you tell me if you ever saw this man before today?"

"No, Sir," the puzzled young woman replied, standing to better see the stranger, "I have not."

"Well then, I would like to properly introduce you to my son, my only son, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Miss Davis swooned.

Fortunately, Dr. Davis had been standing near enough to catch his daughter and he gently placed her on the couch before angrily rounding upon his guests.

"What do you mean bringing this man here and passing him off as your son? I have met the young Mr. Darcy several times, myself. He gave me his card and arrived in a coach bearing your family's crest. He courted my daughter with the stated purpose of marriage and now that he has ruined her, you claim that she is untruthful!"

"I claim no such thing, Sir." Mr. Darcy spoke in as soothing a manner as he could muster. "In fact, neither your progeny nor mine appears to have lied in this instance, although you and your daughter were most thoroughly lied to, I am sorry to say. I believe that I even know the identity of the perpetrator, someone who had access to my son's carriage and belongings. I fear that it is my own godson, no gentleman at all, who has wronged your daughter. I am sorry if it is true, I had no idea he was capable of such duplicitousness."

Dr. Davis was struck speechless by the revelation, but his attention was caught by the newcomer pulling a miniature from inside his coat. "Excuse me, Sir, do you recognize this man?"

"Yes, of course, that is Fitzwilliam Darcy," he looked from one guest to the other, noting their obvious physical similarities and evident relationship; the truth of what they claimed washed over him, "the man we both knew as Fitzwilliam Darcy." He sat down heavily in an armchair, his brow furrowing in anger and confusion. "Please explain to me what, exactly, occurred."

Mr. Darcy took the lead and told the man about his excellent former steward and how he had taken on the responsibility of godfather to the man's son, George Wickham, even going to far as to send the boy to school with his own heir. He admitted that he had planned to offer Wickham a living near Pemberley as a way of encouraging him to take orders, but given the information that had just come to light, that now seemed entirely inappropriate. "I have the leverage," he explained, "to encourage him to marry your daughter. I shall finance the completion of his education, then perhaps purchase for him an officer's commission in the army as a means of employment. Although I now know that my son perpetrated no wrong upon your daughter I see that it was, in fact, a member of my household who did so and I wish to do whatever I can to make things right by her."

"If my daughter refuses to marry this liar? A choice which, given the circumstances, I might encourage despite the irreparable damage to her reputation."

"I shall stand by my former pledge to see to the child's proper upbringing, financially. Of course, I cannot allow you to use the Darcy name in any manner, but I shall set aside some money for its education or dowry, depending upon the sex. I certainly understand your unwillingness to accept into your family a man who has told you naught but falsehoods since your initial introduction and you may count on me to deal with him appropriately. If, however, you do wish for your daughter to be wed before the child comes, we must move with haste."

Miss Davis was beginning to come around and unwilling to distress her further, the Darcys left, although before they went, Mr. Darcy pressed a few banknotes into her father's hand to cover any expenses the young woman might incur.

On the way home, Mr. Darcy once again apologized to his son for thinking the worst of him. "Why did you think to bring that miniature of Wickham along with you?" He could not help asking.

"I thought over what you had said, about seeing no deceit in Miss Davis and concluded that if she was not lying to you, someone had lied to her. There are only two men I knew at school who had adequate access to my personal effects and equipage to impersonate me so. Since I am confident that Richard would never do such a thing to me, that left only one."

"I had no idea that Wickham was capable of such deceit. I knew that his moral character was not quite as upright as yours, that he dallied with the occasional widow or barmaid, but this . . ." He shook his head resignedly. "That poor girl."

"I believe that you did the right thing in promising to pay for the child, Father. Miss Davis made a terrible mistake, but I am glad to know that her innocent child shall not suffer for it, no more than necessary, at least."

"I am sure her father will think of some story to cover it up. I only wonder now what to do about young Wickham. I no longer think him suitable for the living at Kympton. Such behaviour, in fact, makes him unsuitable to take orders at all in my opinion. Still, I made a promise to his father."

"Perhaps you could tell him that you will keep your word to his father and finance his education in full, but once he graduates, he is to make his own way in the world. You will have prepared him as well as you can. He will have far better prospects than other young men of his station and any failure he encounters hence will be only of his own making."

"You are wise beyond your years, Fitzwilliam."

They returned home to London in time for dinner, but neither gentleman was forthcoming about their journey. Once they had retired for the night, Darcy told Elizabeth in very general terms what had transpired. She was shocked that any man could behave in such a fashion, but beyond glad to have her husband acquitted of such vile behaviour. She was also relieved to have no more lies creating tension between them.

That night, he clung to her almost desperately for comfort, still upset by the day's events.


	15. Chapter 14: Possibilities

Two days later, Darcy woke up to an empty bed and the sound of his wife pacing across their chamber.

"Lizzy, whatever is the matter?"

"Nothing. I mean, I do not know that it is anything, not yet at least. It is not even as though anything has happened, in fact the problem is that nothing has happened; that is not to say, of course, that there is a problem."

Darcy leapt out of bed and caught her by the shoulders. "Elizabeth, calm down, you are making no sense."

Her eyes fluttered in confusion as she regarded her naked husband. She laughed, clutching her dressing gown about her body. He soon realized the oddity of the situation and donned his own covering which had been lying over a nearby chair. Once clad, he regarded her carefully and asked her why she was upset.

"I woke up this morning feeling ill," she began.

"I shall call for the doctor immediately." He made for the bell pull that would summon her maid.

"No, Fitzwilliam, I am not ill, not truly. Please, let me finish." He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, looking into her eyes as she explained herself. "I felt ill, although it was nothing severe, just a bit of dizziness and nausea, I did not lose my stomach." Darcy took her hands but remained silent as she went on. "You recall, of course, my," she paused as she searched for a delicate word, "indisposition last month?"

His furrowed brow betrayed no understanding so Elizabeth explained further, her face flushing as she did so. "It prevented us from lying together?" She was grateful this time to see him nod in understanding. "It has not come again, which you may not have noticed as you are unaware of its usual frequency."

Darcy could no longer stay silent. "Is that not a good thing, to avoid an indisposition?" His tone was one of confusion.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. "It is neither good nor bad, I suppose, but it is unexpected. I have had my, ah, cycle," she flushed again at the uncouth mention, "on a regular basis for some years now. I have an idea, however, of what such an event might mean. You must remember of course, that I cannot be certain, but I do have a suspicion based on the information my aunt provided to me following our wedding. It is, of course, only that, a suspicion."

"Tell me, Elizabeth, please, before I go mad with wonder!"

"I may be with child."

"I am to be a father?" Darcy stood, not letting go of her hands, and looked down into her eyes with incredulity.

"There is no way yet to be certain but that is my conjecture." She might have said more, but she was quickly lifted off her feet and placed back into bed.

"You must rest, my love, for the sake of the next heir to Pemberley. I shall tell my father at once, he will be so thrilled to know about his grandson."

Elizabeth sat up. "Fitzwilliam, calm yourself, you cannot tell anybody at this time."

"My love, do you not wish to share our joyous news?"

"It is not yet news, you must remember that it is merely a suspicion."

"Then we shall call a doctor and he shall confirm it for us."

"Even the doctor cannot tell anything now, Fitz. My Aunt Gardiner, who has only recently experienced this herself, informed me that at such an early stage, there is no way to know for certain. The only remedy for our curiosity is patience."

"Why then, would you tell me of your suspicion, if there was no way to be sure of its veracity?" He was mildly petulant.

"Because, as my husband, you are entitled to know my concerns, especially concerns of such a nature as this. If, in the future, you prefer my silence on the subject . . ."

She did not have to finish her thought because Darcy interrupted and, as she had hoped, assured her of his interest and discretion. He joined her in their bed and held her in silence for several minutes before they rose and separated in order to get ready for the day.

Darcy was quite distracted for the next several days. He could scarcely recall what his father told him from one minute to the next and after church on Sunday, he was completely unable to recall the topic of the sermon. He found that the more he considered it, the more he desired his wife's suspicions to be true. He imagined riding across the estate with his father; a small boy seated before him on his horse or perhaps a slightly larger boy astride a pony of his own. They would be three generations of Darcy men, surveying their bounty, strengthening their bond to the land and the heritage it represented. If circumstances were different, they might call him Bennet, it was not a bad name, but that was an unlikely option given the state of Elizabeth's relations with her family. Perhaps her father would be moved by the idea of a grandchild, he might consider the boy a second chance, the son he never had. He might even be willing to reconcile and allow Elizabeth's sisters to visit. Nothing would make her happier, Darcy knew.

The daydreams continued, nearly to the point of infringing upon his life. Also, due to the possible child, he was afraid to touch his wife intimately, he feared that he might harm his son in some manner; some part of him was already sure it would be a boy, a future Master of Pemberley. After a few nights of little contact, she grew annoyed with his behaviour Finally, one evening, when she retired, he did not come to join her at all.

Elizabeth tossed and turned for nearly an hour before rising from her bed and crossing to the door that connected their rooms which was standing, as always, slightly ajar. She pushed it open without knocking and entered the dark chamber. There was a small amount of moonlight peeking through the curtains. Not enough to make out details, but enough to see that there was, in fact, somebody in the bed. She was especially grateful for the light because she had hardly spent any time in this room. As Darcy passed every night in her chamber, Elizabeth had found no reason to enter his and despite choosing the furnishings herself, was not entirely familiar with the layout. She managed to reach the bed without bumping into anything and climbed in beside him, curling up against his side. He noticed immediately.

"Lizzy?" His voice sounded tired but not hoarse. She surmised that he had not actually been asleep. "What are you doing here?"

"I am your wife and if you will not come to me, I must come to you." She was unable to keep the hurt from her voice.

Darcy rolled over to look at her. "I am sorry my love, but I am afraid to hurt you. It has been so difficult to control myself and -"

She cut him off, speaking angrily. "How difficult can it be to resist a woman you no longer desire?"

"No longer desire you?" He blinked in surprise, trying to see her in the dark room. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"Perhaps because you have not touched me in days." She fought to hold back her tears; her eyes glittered in the moonlight where they pooled. "Clearly I am nothing to you now but a vessel for your heir. You have no further use for me until the baby is born." Intellectually, Elizabeth knew that the baby was not yet a certainty, but in her increasingly frequent correspondence with Mrs. Gardiner, she had been warned of many early symptoms, all of which she seemed to be experiencing, including the increased emotionality which was now preventing her from keeping a level head and she failed to repress her tears.

Her husband's confusion turned to panic and he quickly enfolded her in his arms, rocking her gently as she calmed. Whispering words of love, he emphasised his constant desire for her person. "I hunger for you, Lizzy, always. It is like a sickness of which I do not wish to be cured."

"Then, why have you turned away from me?"

"I was afraid that I might hurt you or our son if I acted upon my desires. I could not stand it if my lack of self control caused either of you any harm."

"No, no, you must not worry about that. Even if I am with child, we can still be together in our usual manner."

"How do you know that, Elizabeth? Have you consulted a physician these past few days without informing me? Has your condition been confirmed.?"

"No, no." She smiled slightly despite her upset. "Remember, Fitz, your father's ban on visits to Gracechurch Street did not include a moratorium on letters. In lieu of my mother, my aunt has been counselling me through this confusing time. I have been running messengers quite ragged with my constant missives, I admit to sometimes sending two or three per day this past week."

"Oh, Lizzy, I wish your aunt could be here with you."

"I do as well, but I understand your father's desire to maintain the class distinction." He could tell that it hurt her to admit as much, but did not comment. "Perhaps one day soon, I will feel comfortable enough to confide in Lady Matlock. She has been very kind to me."

"She is a very kind lady, I imagine the two of you get on very well, you have a similar enthusiasm for life."

Elizabeth did not respond, but pressed herself against him as her hands quested for a path beneath his nightshirt. Darcy accepted her touch and hesitantly responded in kind, much more tentative than he had been since their return from Scotland. He knew he had to strike a balance between not upsetting her with rejection and not hurting her with too much enthusiasm.

Eventually, he found himself on top of her, doing his best to hold himself up on his arms so that she would not have to support his weight. He was as gentle as he could be and if Elizabeth was impatient with his performance, she showed no sign of it. She arched into him and moaned in pleasure as he stroked carefully in and out of her, building their mutual pleasure slowly. After they had both reached their peak, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Elizabeth woke up and started, confused at the unfamiliar room until she remembered what had occurred the night before. Darcy, too, took a moment to recall the reason for his strange surroundings, then laughed out loud to realize this was his own chamber and yet he had never before spent the night in it. His cheer seemed to be infectious and soon his wife was laughing as well. She was full of mirth as she donned her nightdress and went through the connecting door to her own room where she could prepare for the day.

That evening, the Darcy family had been invited to dine with the Fitzwilliams. It was a farewell of sorts as Richard Fitzwilliam was to take up his commission on the morrow and begin his training to be a Captain in His Majesty's Army.

It was actually a small dinner party, with close friends and some members of Lady Matlock's family in attendance as well. There was no dearth of undisguised curiosity regarding Elizabeth, but her beauty and wit won the approval of most guests. Those who disapproved of her did not give public voice it.

Overall, the newly-weds felt that the gathering had been a success for them, despite it having been held in honour of another.

October 1807

Elizabeth was in the sitting room with Georgiana and Miss Snyder one afternoon when a visitor entered without being announced. This struck the new Mrs. Darcy as odd but at her sister-in-law's reaction, she surmised that he must have some special sort of relationship with the family.

"George!" Georgiana jumped up upon seeing the man's face, dropping her embroidery in her rush to greet him.

Miss Snyder looked as though she was about to scold her charge for carelessness, but instead noticed the visitor and stood to acknowledge him. She lowered her eyes and looked up through her lashes in the same flirtatious manner she did whenever Darcy was around and gently reminded Georgiana to greet their guest properly.

Elizabeth observed the man for a moment. He had an easy manner and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the attention that was paid to him by the ladies. His face was handsome, but not so handsome as her husband's. His hair was of a similar shade but straight, which Elizabeth could not help but think made it lack character, enamoured as she was of a certain wavy-haired gentleman. He was both tall and broad-shouldered, but neither so much as that same paragon to whom Elizabeth now compared every man she happened to encounter.

Georgiana, meanwhile, was obeying her governess and dropped a tiny curtsey as she acknowledged the guest by a more formal address. "Mr. Wickham." She giggled a bit after saying it as if she found the idea of calling him Mister terribly amusing. Miss Snyder greeted him by the same name and blushed when he kissed her hand.

For a moment, Elizabeth stood a bit awkwardly. She had not been properly introduced to this man and therefore should not greet him, but as the supposed lady of the house, ignoring him seemed unpardonably rude. On the other hand, she recognized his name. Her husband had mentioned it the week before when telling her about the unfortunate situation with Miss Davis. Elizabeth dearly wished to berate him for his behaviour but supposed that perhaps he was here for that purpose already, likely having been summoned by her father-in-law to discuss the young lady's situation and his responsibility regarding it.

Eventually, the man who was apparently Wickham seemed to grow tired of the fawning he was receiving from the familiar ladies in the room and turned his attention to the one who was a stranger to him.

"You must be the lovely Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy about whom I have heard so much."

"I suppose I must be." Elizabeth attempted not to engage him, but he stepped forward and took her hand. She tried to draw it back as inconspicuously as possible, but he was raising it toward his face and she could find no graceful way to stop him. Although her naive sister-in-law certainly seemed fond of this man, Elizabeth knew he was not to be trusted.

Just as his lips brushed her fingertips, the door opened and Mr. Darcy stood there, looking severe. "Wickham! You will join me in my study." The newcomer dropped Elizabeth's hand and hastened to obey his patron.

Wickham was not sure what he had expected when summoned to Darcy House that afternoon, but this had certainly not been among the possibilities he considered.

He remembered Julia Davis, although not well. She was just one in a string of women he had seduced using Darcy's name and the promise of marriage. Most of the others had been distinctly lower class, daughters of shopkeepers and solicitors. Girls who knew they had no recourse against a gentleman of means who had abandoned them, or at least girls whose fathers knew as much.

Miss Davis had been a mistake. While her father was not one of the gentry now, he had been born as such. He had little money but connections enough to feel confident in contacting the father of his daughter's purported seducer to demand an honourable solution for his daughter or, barring the marriage he thought she deserved, at least reparations enough to allow her to raise the child in comfort. It was just his bad luck, Wickham thought to himself, that she was the one who happened to conceive.

Mr. Darcy was a true gentleman. He had strict morals and had raised his son to act in a similar manner, or at least he had attempted it. Wickham was lucky, actually, that Darcy was already married when his father heard of his supposed crime against Miss Davis, for it meant that he could not consider a marriage there and the girl might never meet the real Darcy, and therefore might never have the opportunity to discover that she had not been seduced by the man himself. Had it not been for a bottle of fine whisky and Fitzwilliam's loosened tongue, Wickham might never have been caught at all. Of course, he was not privy to what exactly had caused him to be found out, only that he had been.

Wickham tried to excuse his behaviour; the girl had misunderstood. He used the Darcy name only as a reference, to show that he moved among the Quality, he never claimed to be a member of the family himself. When this did not work, he changed his story and attempted to cite true love. He had been so enamoured of the girl, he had been forced to lie because her haughty father would not consider the lowly son of a steward worthy of his precious daughter.

Mr. Darcy listened to Wickham's excuses in stony silence as his son stood beside him, lips pressed together in anger. The younger Darcy could not help but wonder how many young women cursed his name, thinking that he had seduced them when it was truly the scoundrel standing now in ersatz supplication who had wronged them all.

After hearing what explanation Wickham provided, Mr. Darcy asked him a question. "Would you marry Miss Davis then, if I were to provide you with the means to do so?"

A look passed across the young man's face; disgust mixed with cunning. Mr. Darcy correctly surmised that although he had no wish to marry the girl, he would do so for his own benefit, although perhaps he did not plan to stay shackled to her for long. "Of course, Sir. I love her, do I not?"

"You certainly claimed as much." Mr. Darcy was disappointed in Wickham, but he was more disappointed with himself for never having seen the man's true nature, which was glaringly obvious to him now. "It is a pity then that she says she will not have you." He had received a letter saying as much from Dr. Davis a few days before.

Wickham's sigh of relief was unmistakable. "Well, I suppose that I shall have to get along without her, then."

"Yes, without her and without myself." Mr. Darcy's voice had turned cold.

"Sir?"

"George Wickham," he sighed heavily, "I had great respect for your father and high hopes for your future. Although you could never be a gentleman with an estate, of course, I had hoped to honour your father by helping you get as far in life as possible. Hence, I educated you as a gentleman beside my own son in hopes of improving your station." He acknowledged, for the first time, the young man who had been standing quietly to his left. "As you know, I had intended to give you the living in Kympton when it became available; no longer."

"But, Sir, I am planning to take orders and - "

"No." His face was cold. "While it is not within my power to keep you from becoming a clergyman at all, I can prevent you from shepherding a flock on my own land."

"Mr. Darcy, I made a mistake -"

"You betrayed me!" The older man was livid. An error in judgement, he might be able to overlook, but the man whom he had looked upon as his own, the child he had taken under his wing and guided into adulthood had dragged through the mud the very name which he ought to praise. There was no reason for such behaviour but malice, plain and simple. This was a transgression Mr. Darcy could not forgive. He took a few deep breaths and continued in a more even tone. "I made a promise to your father and I plan to honour it. I will continue to fund your education as planned, but that will be the extent of my charity. I will no longer pay any of your debts and do not even think to look to me for help in securing your livelihood once you graduate."

Wickham stood, his mouth hanging open in shock; he could hardly believe what he was hearing. He almost protested again, but thought better of it. There would be no changing Mr. Darcy's mind so long as his prudish son was about. Perhaps, Wickham thought, he would have to go about getting the money to which he was entitled in a different manner. He turned on his heel and left the room without so much as a farewell.

Both Darcy men were agitated at dinner that evening and neither wished to discuss their guest, despite interest voiced by both Georgiana and Miss Snyder as to the date of his next visit. The latter even went so far as to bemoan how long it had been since he had last come to the town-house. She had a dreamy, faraway look on her face and managed to miss the disapproving looks sent her way by both her employer and his son.

Even alone in their chambers that night, Darcy was loath to mention what had happened with Wickham and eventually Elizabeth stopped asking.


	16. Chapter 15: Retribution

It was nearly two weeks before any member of the Darcy family saw Wickham again, and the encounter was not particularly pleasant.

Darcy had gone to his club alone, as his father had some of his own calls to make while the Darcy ladies were spending the day at Matlock House. He moved to join his cousin, Newton, at a card table, but saw on his way a too familiar face.

"Wickham, what are you doing here?"

"Relax, Darcy, I am here as the guest of another patron, your precious reputation is safe." He did not even look up from his cards. "Unless you have come to make amends, I am uninterested in what you have to say."

"It is hardly upon me to make amends, as I was the wronged party; one of them, at least."

At this, Wickham did spare a look for the man looming over him. "Yet it is I who suffer thanks to your pettiness. No, I shall await an apology." He returned his full attention to the game before him.

"For that, you will be waiting an eternity." Dary spat bitterly. He then studied the other man's table and could tell that Wickham was not there to make friends. All the members seated there were habitual gamblers. Most were heirs in waiting like himself but with more lackadaisical attitudes and nothing better to do, these men drank and gambled day after day, running through allowances and borrowing against inheritances they could not yet claim. Not one man among them wore a smile on his face except for Wickham. Darcy stepped back and observed him for a few hands. Perhaps a man less familiar with Wickham's movements might have missed it, but Darcy did not. He was dealing strategically, taking some cards from the top of the deck and some from the bottom, hiding one periodically in his sleeve for removal on the deal of another. His sleight of hand was impressive, but could not fool a childhood friend whose pocket he had picked hundreds of times over the years.

"He is cheating." Darcy addressed the man there whom he judged to be the most sober. "Look in his sleeve."

Wickham's eyes went wide with horror as both his arms were grabbed and men tore at his coat in an attempt to get beneath it at his wrists. They succeeded in pulling out a total of seven cards.

One of the less sober victims of Wickham's fast hands hauled him up by his collar and punched him square in the face. He must not have hit particularly hard because although the cheater held his now bleeding nose, he did not fall to the ground.

Darcy considered stepping in to remove Wickham from the club, but it became unnecessary when the wounded man was lifted under his arms and thrown out the door. He muttered curses under his breath and decided to lie in wait for the man who had now ruined his life, yet again.

After the incident with Miss Davis, Mr. Darcy had not withdrawn his tuition money and he had made sure that Wickham had both room and board to last him until he was finished at University. Beyond that, however, the young man had been cut off financially. He was used to receiving a monthly stipend which, while less than that which Darcy had enjoyed while in school, was adequate to maintain his lifestyle full of women and liquor. The only way he could think to make money now was to gamble, but since his luck with cards had never been good, he was forced to cheat. He had no choice really, Darcy had given him no other options. He had worked himself up into a lather, pondering all of this over and over, when the very man responsible for his present condition exited the building.

Wickham rushed at him as if he was a wild animal and managed to land a few blows before Darcy shoved him down and climbed in his carriage, out of reach. Although nearly blind with rage, the younger man was pleased to see that his former friend was at least bleeding and visibly flustered by the encounter. He laughed to himself, he would have his revenge yet.

"You'll pay for this, Darcy!" He shouted from his position on the ground as the carriage pulled away from the curb.

It did not take long to arrive home, but when he did, Darcy was still shaking with repressed rage as he held his handkerchief to his nose to stem the flow of blood. He summoned Stevens and hurried to his dressing room, hoping to have himself completely cleaned up before anyone else saw him. He was unsuccessful, for the carriage from Matlock House arrived only minutes after his own and his wife's curiosity was not to be contained.

When she went above stairs to refresh herself, Elizabeth heard noises coming from the direction of her husband's chamber and, as the door between them was never fully closed, she ventured through it in search of the source without waiting for an invitation. The dressing room door had also been left ajar and she stopped short, staring in horror at the sight of Darcy's bruised face and the now pink water in the basin Stevens was using to clean him.

"Fitzwilliam!" She rushed towards him, determined to discover what was wrong.

He attempted to wave off her concern, but she insisted on hearing what had happened. Eventually she was put off by a vague reference to a disagreement at the club. She did not wish to accept this explanation, but he would give her no more. Soon, his father arrived home and the two met behind closed doors. Elizabeth was annoyed, clearly he planned to share what had happened only with the older man. As his wife, she ought to be entitled to his deepest concerns, but clearly Darcy did not agree.

Dinner that night was rather quiet as everyone avoided the most obvious topic of conversation, Darcy's injuries.

By the time they retired that evening, a purple bruise had formed around Darcy's eye and although Elizabeth was still slightly miffed that he would not explain to her the cause, she kissed his forehead sympathetically.

"That must be painful, Fitz, is there anything I can do for you?"

"What you just did is wonderful," he did his best to smile flirtatiously, "I would not object to more kisses."

She kissed his cheek, just below the bruise, and stroked back his hair. She saw real pain in his eyes, and not only the physical kind. Whatever this encounter had been, it had upset him on a level that went deeper than his visible injuries. Deciding, just this once, to allow him his secret, Elizabeth made no more inquiries and instead did as he requested, pressing kisses all around the perimeter of his bruise and along the side of his swollen nose.

"Lizzy," he groaned as his forced smile melted into a genuine one, "I love you."

"I love you too, Fitz, and I want to take care of you." Elizabeth kissed down his face and across his neck, pulling aside the top of his nightshirt to reach a bit of chest. Darcy soon understood that his garment was the only thing preventing further kissing, and he sat up in order to remove it. While he did so, Elizabeth undressed as well, but when he reached for her, she moved beyond his grasp. "Lie down." She commanded softly but firmly. He was happy to obey.

She began again by kissing his face, carefully avoiding his lips, but paying plenty of attention to his neck. She had lain atop him before, but had never been able to fully have her way with him and relished the opportunity. Of course, being still fairly newly married, she was not entirely sure what 'her way' entailed, but she was determined to find out as long as her husband was able to remain passive. He had gotten over his concern for the possible child and their nights had become as passionate as ever. Still, she longed to have a bit of control, unladylike as that might seem.

Darcy was unable to stop his hands from stroking her hips, but he otherwise remained as still as possible, letting Elizabeth take the lead in their lovemaking. It was difficult not to grab her when she straddled his hips or to take her breasts in his mouth when she leaned forward to blow out the candle.

Shrouded in darkness, Elizabeth became bolder, running her tongue along his collarbone and suckling his nipple. She wondered if he liked that as much as she did. He let out a moan when she did it and arched upward, so she supposed that it might be the case. Encouraged, she leaned toward his other nipple, biting it as gently as she could, his moan became louder and his hands moved from her hips to her buttocks, pulling her closer to himself even as he arched upwards.

She could feel his arousal against herself and was about to shift enough to take it inside herself when she was struck by a thought. She wondered if she could do for him what he sometimes did for her or if he would find it abhorrent for his wife to attempt such an action. The little understanding Elizabeth had of whores included the notion that there were things they might do that a good wife would not. Still, as he was lying complacent beneath her, this seemed like an excellent time to try, he could hardly begrudge her the attempt. Besides, perhaps he did not really know where the line in behaviour was drawn between and wife and a whore either. Now determined, she slid lower down his body and kissed his stomach.

Elizabeth smiled as his abdominal muscles tightened under her lips. She both heard and felt his sharp intake of breath when she allowed her tongue to taste his taut skin. The pointed tip of it dipped into his navel and he moaned out loud. She pulled back just enough to study the path ahead of her, then resumed kissing his body.

His coarse hair felt strange beneath her lips and she skimmed over it until she reached the column of flesh that jutted out from his body. Although Elizabeth had seen him unclothed countless times already in their short married life, she had never looked at this part of him quite so closely before and found herself fascinated by details. She noticed, for the first time, a prominent vein that ran along its underside and when she traced it with her tongue, his hips jerked upwards, off of the bed. Looking up at her husband's face, Elizabeth could see it contorted in what appeared to be pain. Concerned, she raised herself up and asked him if he disliked what she was doing.

"Good Lord, no." He groaned and although a bit shocked at his language, she resumed tasting him. This time she allowed the tip of his manhood to pass between her lips, she suckled a bit experimentally and he moaned again. "Liz, Lizzy, you must stop." He panted as he spoke.

Elizabeth was confused, he had just said he liked this, now he did not. She released him from her mouth and sat up to look him in the eye. "Am I performing poorly, Fitzwilliam?"

"No, Lizzy. Admir-, amirdable," in his haze, Darcy seemed unable to form the word he desired so he chose another, "wonderful, love you." His words were unsteady. He reached out and grabbed her arms, pulling her toward him until he could kiss her mouth. "Need you." He managed to say and thrust himself against her belly.

Understanding his need, for hers was the same, Elizabeth moved her body and took him inside of her. She may have moaned in pleasure at the feeling, but it could not be heard over her husband's pleased sounds. Muttering words of love as she moved over him, their coupling did not last long. She felt him spend within her shortly before the spasms of pleasure racked her own body and soon she lay atop him as they both breathed hard from the exertion.

Elizabeth was the first to recover enough to speak "I love you, Fitz. I hope your face does not hurt too much."

"I cannot feel any pain in this moment, Elizabeth. Your love is the best curative in the world. What you did tonight -" His mouth went dry, he was unable to articulate his opinion.

"I hoped you would not be disgusted that I desired to do such a thing." He looked at her, aghast at such a fear. "I did not wish to behave like some strumpet, to be improper, but you have used your mouth on me and I enjoyed it so . . ." She trailed off and looked at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

Darcy could not stop himself from kissing her beautiful, vulnerable face right then before responding. "Remember, Lizzy, everything we do together is proper. It is only between us and God."

She buried her face in his shoulder. "Is it blasphemous to hope that the Lord was not watching us just now?"

His response was to laugh and she could not help but join him. They clung to each other throughout the night.

That Sunday, at church, they both blushed when the minister referenced the watchful eye of God during the service.

Early the next week, Lady Matlock took Elizabeth on yet another shopping trip. The young woman was constantly amazed at the number of things she apparently needed now that she was married and moving to the north of England. Could it really be so much colder in Derbyshire? She took her new aunt's advice, however, and ordered several heavy dresses and a fur muff.

They had just left the milliner's shop, having placed an order for new hats, when a young man came around a corner. Elizabeth recognized Wickham from earlier in the month when he had visited their town-house. Although she did not know the details of what had transpired in Mr. Darcy's study, she knew that none of the gentleman had left pleased and she was fully aware of the reason he had initially been summoned. When he addressed her, she chose to ignore him. Although Elizabeth had never publicly cut anyone in her life, this man seemed like one who deserved it.

Wickham would not stand for such treatment and grabbed her arm, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Please, Mr. Wickham, unhand me."

Lady Matlock was shocked by the commotion and looked around for someone who could come to their aid.

"You think you are too good for me, just like him." Elizabeth could smell the alcohol on the man's breath as he spoke. "He took it from me, took it all. Now I'll take it all from him!" He pulled her toward him and she tried to cry out, but he stopped her voice with a hand clasped over her mouth. Although dirty, the hand seemed like that of a gentleman, unblemished by the signs of hard work. A battered carriage stopped beside them and Wickham had to release Elizabeth's mouth in order to open the door. She began screaming immediately.

He hauled her struggling body into the carriage, which began moving the very second the door was closed. Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of being held on Wickham's lap and tried again to escape as she continued to shriek. He held her tightly about the waist with one arm, pinning her elbows to her sides. The other hand, he used to slap her hard in the face. "Shut up, you stupid bitch!"

His violent action did shock her into silence long enough to hear him speak. "Your husband has taken my life from me and I want it returned. Perhaps then, I will return you, if he still wants you, that is. In the meantime, of course . . ." He used his free hand to grope her breast which caused Elizabeth to scream again and redouble her efforts to pull away. Sighing heavily, Wickham drew a large handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it into her mouth. As she tried to push it out without choking, he began talking once more.

"Perhaps Darcy will decide you are not worth a ransom, I hear you came with no dowry at all, he likely regrets your marriage anyway. I would hate to do anything that might help him, such as getting rid of you, but you would likely bring me a decent price on the street so I needn't walk away empty-handed." While he spoke, he began to gather up Elizabeth's skirts until her knee was exposed. She struggled harder against him as his hand reached higher. "You can show me your talents, now." He touched her thigh and smiled in anticipation. "How you enticed the most staid man in all of England to your bed."

Elizabeth could feel his reaction beneath her and froze for a brief moment. She had sat on Darcy's lap often enough to know exactly what it was pressing against her bottom. The thought of any man not her husband having her in such a position made her want to vomit, but the cloth in her mouth still gagged her, it was too big to be spit out and she still struggled with it. Panicked at the thought of what Wickham might do to her, Elizabeth kicked out as violently as she could. Her feet pressed against the carriage seat and drove her backward, hard enough to escape his grasp, against the unlatched door of the carriage.

She felt completely free for a brief moment before she hit the ground, hard. Every bone in her body seemed to rattle and she saw stars before her eyes, then a young gentleman's face appeared before her. She tried to back away from him but, lying on the ground as she was, there was nowhere to go. Her eyes widened in fear as he reached toward her, but all he did was pull the now sodden cloth from her mouth. She could feel that her dress had fallen back down to cover her legs and said a silent prayer of thanks to have escaped with some modesty intact.

"Miss, are you all right?" He seemed genuinely concerned and not at all threatening. His blue eyes looked kind and his blond locks fell over his eyes in an endearingly boyish manner but Elizabeth was irrational at the moment and feared he meant her harm. She tried to scream again, but had no breath to do so.

"Mother, what should I do?" The man asked someone. "She is hurt and bleeding." Elizabeth could not hear the reply. "She looks like a gentlewoman, certainly her father must be worried." He looked her over and noticed her wedding ring. "Or her husband, perhaps. Can you speak?" He addressed this last bit to Elizabeth who tried again, fruitlessly, to talk. It was as if there was no air in her lungs at all and her mouth was as dry as sand.

The man helped her gently to sit up. Although she flinched when he touched her, he did nothing that was improper and Elizabeth was grateful for the assistance. She looked around for Lady Matlock, but saw neither any person nor any building she recognized. Realizing her reticule still hung from her wrist, Elizabeth reached into it and produced her husband's card, which she handed to the strange man. She could only hope that he would return her home without further harming her person, she did not have the strength to run away.

"Is this your father?" The man asked and Elizabeth shook her head, wincing at the intense pain such movement caused. "Your husband?" She nodded. "Would you like me to take you there?" Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude as she nodded again, certain now that she heard kindness in his voice. With the gentleman's help she managed to get to her feet. He gestured toward a carriage with an open door, she could see an older woman sitting inside it. Grateful for the presence of a chaperone, Elizabeth took a step toward the carriage, then collapsed.

Fortunately, her gentleman saviour was close enough to catch her. He then placed her in the carriage before handing her husband's card to the driver and climbing in himself.

Once they arrived at the address on the card, the gentleman stepped out, approached the door, and knocked. When Sinclair answered the door, he asked to see Mr. Darcy.

"I am sorry, Sir, neither Mr. Darcy is available at the moment."

"This is important, I have his wife!"

"One moment, please." The door was shut in the gentleman's face. When it opened again, barely more than a minute later, he found himself grabbed roughly by his lapels.

"Where is she? What have you done with her?" Darcy demanded in an angry voice.

"She is in the carriage with my mother." The young man choked out, clearly frightened. He gestured toward the equipage. "I believe she is in need of a doctor."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, only to return your wife."

Darcy let go of him, confused. "Are you not in league with Wickham?"

"I do not know anyone by that name, Sir. My mother and I had just left a meeting with our solicitor when a young lady fell, hurt, out of a moving carriage at my feet. She gave me your card and I brought her here."

"Hurt, how badly?" Darcy did not wait for an answer before he rushed to the carriage and threw open the door. He barely registered that there was a second woman inside, he only had eyes for Elizabeth, who lay slumped across one seat. He lifted her in his arms and carried her into the house, giving Sinclair an order as he hurried by the man. "Invite them inside and send for the doctor." He carried Elizabeth up the stairs and straight to her chamber, where he placed her on the bed.

He knew that she would need to be cleaned, but thought perhaps the doctor ought to see her first. She had blood on her face and arms and even some splotches on her dress. Her entire body was covered in a layer of dirt as if she had been rolling around in the street. Although she did not stir from unconsciousness, her face was contorted with pain. Darcy climbed into bed without even removing his shoes and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, Lizzy, thank the Lord you have been returned to me. Please be well, please be well." He sobbed into her shoulder.

It had not been long since his Aunt Matlock had arrived, alone in her carriage, hysterical about what had happened to Elizabeth. She had not recognized the attacker herself, but remembered the younger woman had called him by name when she was grabbed. Immediately Darcy had been racked with guilt. Perhaps if he had not exposed Wickham's deceit at the club, the man would not have felt the need to retaliate by kidnapping his wife.

A messenger had been dispatched immediately to Bow Street to send out a search party for Wickham and his victim. Although he had Elizabeth back now, Darcy hoped very much that they would still catch the blackguard. He had never before felt such a desire for vengeance.

Darcy breathed in the scent of Elizabeth; to him, still unmistakeable even beneath the more prominent odours of dirt and blood. He tightened his hold on her and she moaned out loud, shifting a bit before she woke up and immediately began screaming. She pushed at him in an attempt to free herself and kicked him squarely in the shin.

He loosened his grasp, but did not let her go. "Lizzy, Lizzy, I have you now, you are safe. I promise, you are safe."

She blinked a few times as her eyes focused on him. "Fitz?" Her voice was scratchy and confused. Her dry throat burned with each word. She gestured to the ewer and looked at her husband gratefully when he brought her a glass of water. After drinking deeply, she was able to speak again. "Oh, Fitzwilliam!"

"Yes, my love?"

"It was Mr. Wickham, he took me and he -" She burst into tears and buried her face against his shoulder.

"I know, I am sorry, Love, they will catch him and when they do, he will pay for what he did to you." At this, Elizabeth only cried harder. Darcy was still trying to figure out how to respond when the doctor entered the room.

Dr. Coulter had been the Darcy family physician for several decades although they did not see him often due to generally good health. His directive that Darcy vacate the bed, was reluctantly obeyed, but when he asked to be left alone with his patient, he was refused.

"Sir, I simply do not believe that my examination can be as thorough with you hovering about. Mrs. Darcy's maid will be here to assist me."

"I do not hover!" Darcy insisted.

"You do," Elizabeth allowed, still a bit hoarse, "and I do not mind, but perhaps you ought to let the doctor do his work." Her last words were shaky as she cringed in pain again. She pressed her lips together and tears leaked from her eyes.

Darcy wanted very much to return to the bed and hold her, but she stopped him with a look. He sighed deeply and kissed her forehead gently before trudging below stairs. He had nearly forgotten about the gentleman who had brought her home. If he was truly not in collusion with Wickham, which Darcy allowed was still a possibility, however remote, he was owed great thanks.

When Darcy entered the drawing room, he saw his father taking tea with the young man and an older woman, likely the mother he had mentioned escorting.

"How is Mrs. Darcy?" His father asked with genuine concern.

"She is awake, Dr. Coulter is seeing to her now. Where is Georgiana?"

"I am glad to hear it. I sent your sister home with Lady Matlock, I saw no reason to upset her unduly. She has grown quite attached to Mrs. Darcy." His words sounded might have sounded mildly callous, were it not for his gentle tone. "Now come, Fitzwilliam, meet our guests properly."

Darcy bowed to the pair and addressed the man. "I thank you most sincerely for rescuing my wife from what was surely a dire situation."

"I could do no less, Sir. I could hardly believe my eyes when the young woman fell, quite literally at my feet."

"I would like to know the name of the gentleman to whom I am indebted."

"Of course, my name is Charles Bingley."


	17. Chapter 16: Loss

Darcy found, during the course of conversation with his wife's saviour, that the man was a student at the very university he had so recently left. Although the son of a mill owner, young Mr. Bingley was receiving a gentleman's education and had plans to establish himself as a landowner. It having been just over a year since his father's death, he was still leaning heavily on his solicitor for financial advice.

Something in his earnest manner appealed to Mr. Darcy, and the older man graciously offered to help him with his more complex financial decisions, inviting Bingley to visit the next week, dependant upon the health of the lady of the house, of course. Mrs. Bingley spoke little but seemed genteel and polite. She understood that there was great tension in the household of their hosts and encouraged her son to leave relatively quickly.

Once their unexpected guests had gone, the Darcy men discussed Wickham. They agreed that it was unlikely that Bingley had anything to do with Elizabeth's kidnapping, but decided to be wary, just in case. His forthcoming visit would help them get a better read on him. They had just begun to talk about how the whole situation might affect Georgiana when the doctor entered.

Darcy jumped to his feet in anticipation. "My wife, how is she?"

"Mrs. Darcy is resting as comfortably as possible, given the circumstances." Dr. Coulter paused as if searching for words.

"What circumstances?" Darcy practically shouted. His father restrained him with a firm hand on his arm.

The response was calm and businesslike. "Mrs. Darcy was kidnapped and forced into a carriage. She was handled roughly but not violated." A strangled gasp escaped Darcy's mouth, he had not even considered such a horrifying possibility. The doctor continued. "She escaped from the carriage while it was moving, which accounts for most of her injuries. She has several bruises and lacerations, all superficial. Fortunately, none of her bones were broken."

"My wife is healthy then, generally?" Darcy was hopeful until he saw the serious expression on Dr. Coulter's face.

"Externally, yes, but there is the matter of the child."

It was the older Mr. Darcy who responded to this first, although he addressed his son instead of the doctor. "Mrs. Darcy is with child?"

"We were not yet certain," Darcy looked from one man to the other, "she had only just begun to suspect. Is it true then, she is expecting?" He looked eagerly at , who gave the slightest shake of his head, regret evident in his eyes at the news he was forced to give to the young husband.

"It is likely that she was but I am afraid that her fall has caused her to miscarry. The origin of some of the blood . . ." He trailed off as his eyes flicked to Darcy's shirt, which still bore rust-colored marks from when he had cradled his wife against himself. "I am sorry Sir, but nothing could be done, she had lost the child before I arrived."

Darcy collapsed onto a chair, his head in his hands. "Will she be all right? Will she be able to -" His voice broke, but the doctor took his meaning.

"I see no reason why Mrs. Darcy should be unable to conceive in the future, she is young and healthy, despite her present circumstance. I caution you, however, not to share a bed with her for some time yet. She must be completely healed before -"

"Of course, do not think me to be a beast!" The doctor looked mildly apologetic. "What can be done for her now for her health, her comfort?"

"The bleeding and cramping can last several days. Cold baths, with ice if it is available, can be of some aid and she ought to spend as much time as possible in bed. I gave her a dose of Laudanum to relieve the pain and help her sleep. I have left a bottle with her maid that ought to last the week. She is showing signs of mental anguish and asking for her mother, which is quite natural. Is it possible to send for Mrs. Darcy's mother?"

"I am afraid it is not." Darcy gave no more details, so the doctor provided another suggestion.

"Perhaps she has some other female relation then, a sister or aunt who might provide comfort in this trying time."

"I can comfort my wife." His voice was tight.

"Of course, Sir, I only meant that in this sort of situation, often feminine company is especially appreciated, a lady with whom Mrs. Darcy is familiar would be best."

Mr. Darcy finally spoke again. "Thank you, Doctor, for your attendance and advice. Will you be able to return soon to assess Mrs. Darcy's progress?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, I shall call tomorrow morning if that is convenient."

They agreed that it was and Dr. Coulter was shown out of the house.

Darcy did not wait to be dismissed from his father's presence before hurrying to his chambers. He stripped completely and cleaned himself as well as he could with a cloth and basin before quickly dressing again. He wanted to be sure that there was no visible trace of her blood left on his body but had no patience to wait for a bath to be drawn. He donned a pair of breeches and a shirt but nothing else. He had no need for formal attire as he planned not to leave Elizabeth's side for the foreseeable future.

The connecting door to his wife's bedchamber was unusually closed but fortunately not locked and he entered without knocking, afraid to disturb her if she was, in fact, asleep.

Elizabeth lay, looking unusually pale, in a bed whose sheets had been changed in the past hour so that they, too, showed no signs of her blood. Her face was clean and he could see a cut above one eye and a badly bruised cheek. Since she was covered to her neck, he could tell nothing else. Jessica sat in a chair near the bed, watching over her prone mistress.

When Darcy entered, he nodded to the maid who quietly left the room. He stood, looking at his love for several minutes, nearly on the verge of tears, although whether from sadness or relief, he was unsure. Finally, unable to withstand being apart from her any longer, he carefully slid into the bed noting, with a new wave of anguish at the reason for them, the thick pad of towels upon which she rested and lay beside her still form; close without touching. It felt strange to be in bed in the middle of the day, but he knew there was nowhere else he would rather be at the moment, nowhere else he could stand to be. He continued to watch her as she rested peacefully, but after some time, she began moving in her sleep. Barely at first, then more violently until she struck him in the side with her flailing arms. Darcy gathered her to himself and spoke soothingly, wrapping his arms around her in a protective gesture.

In the throes of a nightmare, Elizabeth could feel her arms being pinned to her sides and she began to struggle against the restraint. In the back of her mind, she could hear her husband's voice whispering to her and she knew she had to get away from her captor so that she could return to him. She kicked her feet, colliding with something solid, and screamed for help - then suddenly she was free. The shock of it all jolted her to wakefulness and her first feeling was one of confusion as she looked about and realized she was in her very own bedchamber at Darcy House. Her husband lay a few feet away from her, clutching his leg and grimacing with pain.

"Fitzwilliam?" She ventured, tentatively, as if afraid it was not real.

He immediately turned all of his attention to her. "Lizzy, are you well, Love?"

"I - I was back there again. He was holding me. He - he touched me." She burst into tears and Darcy rushed to envelop her in his arms, ignoring the way his leg smarted; she had no way of knowing she had kicked him twice that day in the very same spot.

"It is all right, Lizzy, you are safe now."

"Was that awful man caught?" She managed to choke out through her tears.

"Not yet, Love, but we have men looking for him. The most important thing is that you are returned to me."

"I am sorry, Fitz, so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Elizabeth, you escaped from his clutches. You did very well."

"I lost our baby!" A new wave of tears washed over her and he did not speak for several moments while he stroked her hair comfortingly.

"No, Lizzy, no." He finally spoke. "You did nothing wrong. You did not lose our child, he was taken from you, from us; another crime for which Wickham shall have to answer."

"If I had not thrown myself from the carriage -"

"Then you would have been in even more danger. The Lord only knows what that villain would have done to you had he succeeded in your kidnapping. I am grateful you are here with me now and safe. The doctor says you will recover completely, with time. We will yet have a child, there is no need to fret." He allowed her to cry, rubbing her back in firm, gentle circles, until she was exhausted enough to fall asleep again.

Elizabeth slept fitfully and as she tossed and turned, Darcy could hear her calling out for her mother. He was aware that she had not have the best of relationships with Mrs. Bennet, she felt that the woman had pushed her out too soon and compared her unfavourably to Jane. Still, the love was there, and he knew that she missed her mother as much as any of her sisters since their marriage. The doctor was right, at a time like this, a woman needed her mother. He rose from the bed carefully, so as not to wake her, and went to his own chamber.

It took some time to pen a note, he wanted to be diplomatic, but he also wished to make it clear that Mr. Bennet had been wrong to cast off his daughter as he had. Eventually satisfied with the wording, he marked the letter urgent and sent it off express. Hertfordshire was nearby, it would arrive that evening and he was sanguine that Mrs. Bennet would be at her daughter's bedside the next day.

A bit nervous about his initiative, Darcy spoke to his father about what he had done. The older man sighed, but agreed that as Mrs. Bennet was the wife of a gentleman as well as family of a sort, she would be welcomed into their home. He did consider suggesting that Lady Matlock be called, but that might cause Georgiana to ask questions. She had been told merely that her sister-in-law was unwell; there was no reason to scare the child.

Darcy took tea in his wife's chamber and he tried to coax her to eat a bit when she woke. Elizabeth agreed to drink some tea, but allowed no solid food to pass her lips. She said she felt ill and he was loath to press the issue.

The rest of the day, he read to her as she lay beside him, tucked under his arm and stroking his chest absently. She clearly craved affectionate physical contact after her ordeal that morning, and he was more than happy to give it. Although it broke his heart to look down into her bruised face, he made an effort to not only do so, but to kiss her often, mostly on the unmarked side of her forehead. He worried that to kiss her split lip would cause her pain and with great restraint, avoided that and all her other abrasions.

Dinner, too, was taken in Elizabeth's room, although she touched that food barely more than the cakes at teatime. After the meal, she agreed to take some Laudanum on the condition that her husband stay with her until she fell asleep. He was very willing to do so and in fact, found it difficult to leave once she was sleeping peacefully at last.

Darcy did leave, however, and went below stairs to speak to his father about Wickham's future punishment. They agreed to seek transportation for the criminal, although a previously unknown blood-lust in Darcy reared its head and he wanted to suggest the gallows as images of Elizabeth's wounds and tears flitted through his mind. Still, Australia was far enough away that if sent there, the scoundrel would be out of their lives forever.

Any punishment, however, was contingent upon finding Wickham and although men had been at that task nearly all day, there had been no developments of any kind. He seemed to have completely disappeared from London, which was an intelligent choice on his part, considering what he had done.

When they were ready to retire, Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to remind his son about the doctor's instruction not to share his wife's bed, but he closed it again, unwilling to begin such an argument as he knew would follow. He had to trust the young man to do what was best on his own.

Unsurprisingly, once Darcy was dressed in his nightshirt, he let himself into Elizabeth's room; sleeping anywhere else was inconceivable. He understood what the doctor had truly meant about not sharing his wife's bed and he knew that merely sleeping in a close proximity to her would hardly violate the order.

He eased into bed as carefully as he could, even though she was unlikely to wake up given the drug she had taken just hours before. He lay beside her, his arms at his sides, he did not want to hold her if it would only scare her again as it had before.

He had no idea how to help her and was anguished at that thought. In the still room, he finally allowed himself to cry. His tears were of relief, to have her back; of sadness, to have lost their child; of anger, at the perpetrator of her pain; and of frustration, at his helplessness to aid her. Having had his catharsis, he looked at Elizabeth and saw that she had not moved. In the dim moonlight that peeked through the curtains, he could just barely make out her still form and rolled on his side so that he could face her.

He watched her chest slowly rising and falling as she slept. He could not stop himself from moving close enough to feel her warmth. Even without physically touching, he was comforted by their closeness. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought she was as well, judging by the faint smile he was certain came to her lips when he increased their proximity. He fell asleep like that, his body a hair's breadth from her own.

Early the next morning, Darcy was awakened by movement in the bed. Elizabeth was thrashing about in her sleep then, as he watched, she came awake with a start and moaned loudly in pain, clutching her stomach as she did so.

"Lizzy, are you - " he did not get to finish his sentence.

"Mama," she groaned as if not seeing him, "help . . . Jane!"

Darcy was out of bed in an instant. He kissed her on the forehead and summoned Elizabeth's maid to sit with her before hurrying to his own bedroom to dress. There, he was presented with the unopened express he had sent to Hertfordshire the day before, delivery having been refused by the man of the house.

Making a quick decision, Darcy ordered a carriage to be readied and dressed quickly before heading off without even discovering whether his father was yet awake. There were few horses or carriages on the street at that hour, so he made excellent time on his short voyage to Gracechurch Street, where he arrived at the home of the Gardiners.

The servant who answered the door was surprised by the gentleman's appearance but, recognizing him from before, showed him into the house where the couple was breaking their fast together. Mr. Gardiner immediately rose upon hearing the name of their guest.

"Mr. Darcy, what a surprise to see you here at this hour. Is aught amiss?" It was an impolite time of day to arrive, especially uninvited and he knew Darcy to be too socially aware to do so without reason.

"Unfortunately, yes; I have an unpleasant purpose for my visit today. "Mrs. Gardiner, I fear that Elizabeth is in need of you."

"In need of me!" Her hand flew to her chest in alarm. "Why did she not come herself?"

"She is unwell," Darcy's voice broke as he thought of his wife in pain and distress, "she has called out for her mother and sister, but my missive to Longbourn was refused. I hoped that you would be able to provide her with some comfort, she is so fond of you."

"Is she with child? I know she suspected . . ." Mrs. Gardiner trailed off under the intense gaze of her husband.

Darcy sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. "I fear she is with child no longer, she was injured and lost the babe as a result." He looked up earnestly, trying to banish the tears that threatened to form in his eyes. "I know that my father's directive has been harsh, but please put aside any hard feelings you have toward me for ungenerously adhering to it and come to our home for Elizabeth's sake."

"Mr. Darcy, you must know that we bear you no ill-will." Mr. Gardiner put his hand on the younger man's shoulder comfortingly. "You acted rashly in marrying our niece, and I resented that at first, but I know now that you are a good man and have tried to honour your father's wishes as best you can. Madeline, will you go to Lizzy now?"

"Of course, I shall be ready momentarily." She hurried about, fetching her shawl and reticule before joining their distraught guest in his carriage. As they travelled to Darcy House, she was apprised of Elizabeth's condition and the events leading up to it.

Now that she was seated directly across from him, Darcy could not help but notice the slight bulge in Mrs. Gardiner's midsection, evidence that she was with child herself. He wondered whether her fecund presence would be too upsetting for Elizabeth, given her very recent loss. No, he decided, she was fond of her aunt and a generous person, she would not begrudge her relations their own happiness merely because she had suffered a disappointment. She would still be grateful for the woman's visit.

Once they arrived, Darcy showed Mrs. Gardiner to the bedroom where Elizabeth lay, having been soothed by her maid and a few drops of Laudanum in his absence. He kissed his wife's hand and left her in the competent care of her aunt before going downstairs to see to a meal for both her and himself.

In the breakfast room, Darcy encountered his father, looking stern.

"Where did you go this morning, Fitzwilliam? I know you took the carriage quite early."

He saw no point in attempting to dissemble, the evidence of his mission was above stairs at that very moment. "I went to Gracechurch Street to see the Gardiners."

"I have told you that you are not to associate with that tradesman."

"I apologize for disobeying you, Father, but I do not regret it. My wife was in need of the care only a trusted woman could provide. Her mother and sisters are now inaccessible, I tried writing to Mr. Bennet, to no avail; and although Aunt Matlock has been all that is welcoming, I do not believe their relationship has yet progressed to the point that she would do for this kind of comfort. Besides, she must stay with Georgiana until the worst is past." The younger man looked his father in the eye as he gave his explanation.

Mr. Darcy regarded his son seriously for a moment before responding. "Your care for your wife does you credit. Still, to have such an unrefined person in our home; it is insupportable."

"It would be insupportable to not do everything I can for my wife in this trying time!" The young man was anguished. "She was kidnapped and brutalized by a man I once called a friend. A man whose actions were driven by his desire to punish me. How can I let Elizabeth suffer for my failings?"

"You did not fail, Son. It is Wickham's fault entirely that she is in this state now."

"Yet Wickham remained in this family's good graces when he ought not to have. I was wilfully ignorant of his deficiencies and allowed you to retain your good opinion of him far longer than reasonable. As a consequence of my cowardice my wife, whom I love above all things, has lost her child - my child - through his actions."

"I understand that you wish to help Mrs. Darcy, it is a laudable desire. Still, I cannot have the wife of a tradesman be seen as a guest in this house. You know that London is rife with the gossip of the ton. What will people say?"

Too upset to continue the debate, Darcy excused himself tersely and returned to his wife's bedchamber, stopping a maid along the way to order that some food be sent up.

When he arrived, he found the room empty. Although he trusted Mrs. Gardiner with her niece's care, he could not help but wonder where she might have taken his bedridden wife. He stood, confused, for a few moments before he heard muffled voices and shuffling footsteps. Rushing to the door, he saw the two women moving slowly down the hallway together. Almost immediately, he was at Elizabeth's side, taking her other arm as she carefully put each foot in front of the other.

She was pleased to see him. "Oh Fitz, thank you. Thank you for bringing my aunt to me. How did you convince your father to allow her to visit?" She noticed his hesitation to respond. "He did not agree? Oh, Fitzwilliam, you must not anger your father on my behalf! I have already been so much trouble . . ."

Mrs. Gardiner looked as though she wished to make a comment of her own but pressed her lips together and allowed the newly-weds to converse as if she was not there, although she did not release her hold on her niece's arm.

"Lizzy, no, you are not any trouble at all; you are a blessing."

"It is no blessing to have failed in my foremost duty as your wife." She halted her shuffling and looked at him with wide, wet eyes. "Perhaps it would be best for everybody if I was to return to Longbourn - alone."

"No, Elizabeth." Darcy moved to stand in front of her. "I do not believe it would be best for you and I know it would not be best for me. I love you too much, I cannot live without you. If you do not feel secure in London, we will leave it. Remember the beauty of Pemberley? It is not only scenic but safe as well."

"No, Fitzwilliam, I cannot take you away from town, your family is here."

"You are my family, Love. Besides, the little season will be concluding in less than a month and my father plans to return to Pemberley by then, regardless. We shall only remove ourselves a bit earlier, as soon as you feel up to the trip. Before long, Georgiana and my father will join us there."

Tired, she nodded her acquiescence and slumped against him, exhausted. Darcy lifted his slight wife into his arms. Mrs. Gardiner followed closely as he carried Elizabeth back to her room and helped tuck her into bed.

The doctor visited briefly later that morning, and pronounced Elizabeth to be recovering as well as could be expected. For the rest of the day, she remained sequestered in her chamber with her aunt. Meals were sent up and Darcy joined them for food and conversation, but sensed that his presence was not constantly desired, and so absented himself for most of the afternoon.

Sitting alone in his chamber, avoiding his father, Darcy had plenty of time to think. He was glad that his wife had Mrs. Gardiner for comfort and felt no qualms about having defied a direct order to provide that for her. However, he could not help but feel left out of her confidence. He could not help but wonder if he had not brought the older woman into the house, would Elizabeth have relied on him for support instead? He felt an overwhelming desire to be everything for her; husband, friend, and confidant. No, he told himself, it was selfish to want to deprive his wife of proper comfort in order to fulfil his own desires. Still, the doctor had said it would be some weeks yet before they could safely attempt conception again and without the physical closeness that lovemaking brought, he wished to strengthen their emotional connection and could not help feeling that Mrs. Gardiner was taking his place in that regard.

Doing his best to shake off his uncharitable feelings, Darcy decided to remove himself from the house and all temptation to interfere. He realized that he had been staring for some time at the door that connected their chambers and it would not do. He called for his carriage and went to pay a call at Matlock House.

Georgiana was elated to see her brother and worried about his wife. She begged him for information about Elizabeth and was relieved when he promised her all would soon be well. He stayed for tea and listened to his sister's performance of her newest pianoforte piece; welcoming the distraction from his more serious thoughts.

Miss Snyder, having been temporarily relocated along with her charge, was internally less delighted to hear that the lady's condition was not life-threatening although her staid face did not betray her uncharitable thoughts. She was pleased, however, to hear that they would soon be returning to Pemberley. There, with less amusements to distract him, Darcy would certainly grow bored with his simple southern wife.

In a private interview with his aunt, Darcy assured her that Elizabeth would make a full recovery, pending a few more days of bed rest. He chose not to tell her of the child they had lost but assured her that Elizabeth would welcome a call before they all left London for the year.

Upon returning home, he found Elizabeth, still groggy, being read to by her aunt. Aware of her very tenuous welcome at Darcy House, Mrs. Gardiner excused herself to return home before dinner and handed Darcy the book. After sending a footman to escort his wife's aunt back to Gracechurch Street, he settled into a chair beside the bed to continue reading. After a few paragraphs, he stopped and finally looked at the title of the novel.

"The Mysteries of Udolpho, really, Lizzy? I did not know you read this Gothic silliness."

"I do not, normally, but it seemed like something one might read while ailing."

"Where did you even find this? I hope it does not belong to Georgiana."

"It may, my aunt discovered it in the library, or perhaps it is Miss Snyder's."

"I can believe that." Darcy scoffed and looked around for something of more substance to read.

"Fitzwilliam, please do continue. I know that it is not the most intellectually stimulating of texts, but that is why it appeals to me at this moment. Besides, I wish to discover what happens next."

"You are fortunate that I love you." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her unmarked cheek. "This is hardly appropriate reading for a man."

"Men's books, women's books, they are all just words, Fitz."

It was evident that Elizabeth's spirits had improved even if her physical state had not and Darcy said a silent prayer of thanks before setting the book aside and working at removing his boots. Soon, he joined her in the bed and took up the novel once again, beginning where he had left off and putting more feeling into reading the words he still thought silly. Smiling a bit, Elizabeth shifted her position so that she could snuggle into his side as his voice comforted her. The day with her aunt had been wonderful and even necessary, but there were no words to describe how it felt to have her husband home with her once more.

Darcy left her only long enough to arrange for their meal to be sent upstairs. He spoke briefly with his father, assuring the older man of Elizabeth's improved spirits.

Later that night, as they lay together in bed, they clung to one another, allowing chaste kisses and whispered words to remind each other of their love.


	18. Chapter 17: Leaving London

The next few days, Darcy stayed at home with his slowly recovering wife. He read to her and helped her into the tub filled with cold water, towelling her as vigorously as possible without hurting her when she inevitably emerged shivering. They went for short walks around the house and played several games of chess. Elizabeth's understanding of strategy was quickly improving and although she could not hope to win yet against such an experienced opponent, she did manage to put her husband in check a few times. Darcy promised teasingly that once they reached Pemberley, they could work once again on her swordsmanship. He assured her that the large private ballroom on the estate would be just the venue for such lessons, even in the dead of winter. She wrote a letter to her aunt each day detailing the ways in which she felt better.

One day, Lady Matlock came to call and almost burst into tears at the sight of her new niece's bruised face. The countess was highly apologetic for allowing such a thing to occur under her very nose although Elizabeth assured her repeatedly that it was absolutely no fault of hers.

Although she seemed much improved during the day, every night since the first after her ordeal, Elizabeth woke up screaming at least once, panicked to be trapped in her husband's embrace. Darcy did his best to calm her, but could do nothing besides stroking her hair lovingly as she cried herself back to sleep, night after night. He tried to entice her to take a tincture of Laudanum before bed, but she eschewed the drug once her pain had become bearable. He offered to sleep elsewhere so as not to frighten her with his touch during the night, but she would not hear of a separation.

Desperate to make her happy, Darcy begged his father for permission to invite the Gardiners to dinner. The older man opined for several minutes about proper divisions of class, but eventually acquiesced. Once this barrier was breached, Darcy inquired as to whether the Bingleys might be invited to join them as well. After all, he pointed out, they had promised the young man some guidance and mother and son had seemed reasonably genteel.

"In for a penny, in for a pound." Mr. Darcy grumbled and agreed to allow the small party the next evening if all were available.

The question at hand became when to bring Georgiana home. Elizabeth was melancholy and weak, but able to move about without too much pain. Her bruises were still obvious, however, and nobody wished to upset the young girl. She had been so horrified to see her brother's injured face the week before; her father did not think she could handle seeing her sister-in-law's more severe wounds. In addition, he was loath to explain to his daughter what, exactly, had occurred. It was decided that she would remain at Matlock House until Darcy and Elizabeth had departed for Pemberley. By the time Georgiana was to reach the estate in her father's company, the visible evidence of Elizabeth's ordeal would likely no longer be noticeable.

Despite her periods of intense sadness, Elizabeth allowed herself to become excited about Saturday's gathering. She was thrilled and relieved that her father-in-law had finally agreed to allow her relations a sanctioned visit. Although he was a stern man, she had already found him to be generally fair and, Wickham aside, a decent judge of character. She respected him and was certain that once he had a chance to become acquainted with the Gardiners, he would welcome them to Pemberley as well.

Having grown tired of nightclothes and dressing gowns, she was looking forward to finally wearing a real dress. A desire to hide the bruising on her arms necessitated long sleeves and, still self-conscious in general, she chose a gown that displayed none of her décolletage; which was just as well since her corset had been left fairly loose. Despite the conservative nature of her dress and the fact that all their guests were aware of her recent ordeal, she felt awkwardly on display and was strangely relieved when her husband complimented her beauty profusely before escorting her down the stairs.

The Gardiners arrived first, followed promptly by Bingley and his mother. They spoke briefly on topical subjects and everybody was assured as to the continuing improvement of Elizabeth's health.

"Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth began, "I regret that I was unable to convey my gratitude to you for saving me that day when I -" she could not bring herself to specify what had happened "- when I required help."

"Oh, Mrs. Darcy, no thanks are necessary. As I understand it, you quite saved yourself. All you required from me was transportation home."

"I cannot express . . . " It was odd to be speaking to this stranger, no matter how genial he seemed, after the unconventional and traumatic way in which they had been introduced. "I must thank you." She stated simply. He accepted graciously and that was the end of it.

The conversation shifted quickly to other topics, for which Elizabeth was grateful. She noticed that her father-in-law was not speaking much except to Bingley about the trials and tribulations of estate ownership. She was disappointed but not particularly surprised by his disinterest in her relations. Eventually, he looked up and caught her eye. As if reading her thoughts, he stiffly addressed her aunt at the next conversational lull.

"Mrs. Gardiner, I understand that you hail from Derbyshire."

"Oh yes, Mr. Darcy. I find it to be the most beautiful county in all of England. I am sure that you must agree with me."

"I am afraid that I have not seen every county in England, but in my limited and admittedly biased opinion, you are correct. Where in Derbyshire were you raised?"

"In Lambton, an easy distance from your own estate, Sir."

"In Lambton, really!" He seemed mildly amused by the notion. "I do business with many citizens of that town, perhaps I am acquainted with your father or brother."

"I have no brother, and I do not believe that you would have any use for my father's trade, for you have a provider of it closer to your own home."

He looked at her in confusion, a bit taken aback by her flippancy. It was his son who explained.

"Mrs. Gardiner's father is the vicar of the Lambton parish, Father. We have never attended his church as we patronize the one at Kympton."

"The Lambton parish, I feel like I ought to know . . . What is your father's name, Madam?"

"Mr. Stephen Cunningham, Sir."

"Cunningham . . ." Mr. Darcy's brow furrowed as he thought. "Oh! I do know him, although not well. His father, your grandfather then, was the Baron of Greensdown?" He glared slightly at his son, who flushed with the realization that his father might have been far more accepting of the Gardiners if he had been informed of the connection sooner.

"Yes he was, although I have never visited the estate, myself."

"Someday it may be your father's, I believe, if the current Lord Greensdown does not marry." Walter Cunningham, Baron Greensdown, was well known among the ton as a gambler and excessive drinker, but not as a womaniser. Even now, at sixty, he could yet marry and father an heir, many young women or widows would be happy to have his title and wealth, but he rarely danced at balls and had not been known to court a woman in decades.

"I had not given that possibility much thought, I suppose I would visit it, then." Left unsaid was what would happen after her own father's death without male progeny. Perhaps, Elizabeth realized for the first time, her aunt carried a future peer of the realm in her womb. Low connections, indeed!

After this revelation, Mr. Darcy became noticeably more interested in the relations of his daughter-in-law. Dinner was more relaxed and enjoyable for everybody.

Darcy could tell that his father was in a good mood by the quality of cigars he brought out when the sexes separated after the meal. The older man even engaged Mr. Gardiner in some conversation regarding the man's business endeavours.

Once the men returned to the drawing room, both Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth displayed their talents on the pianoforte and although neither performance was superlative, both were enjoyed by all.

Darcy and Bingley played two games of chess and got to know each other. Although Darcy found his new acquaintance to be slightly immature, he allowed that was likely a mere consequence of his age and inexperience and allowed himself to admire the younger man's affability and determination to better his situation.

Once the evening was over and the guests were seen out; Darcy felt as though he had made a friend, Mr. Darcy was pleased by his new understanding of his daughter-in-law's social connections, and Elizabeth was happy to have been granted access to at least a part of her family. That night, she finally slept peacefully until morning, even without Laudanum.

The next day, feeling refreshed and relatively cheerful, Elizabeth insisted upon going to church despite her husband's attempted insistence that she remain in bed. They did not arrive particularly early so that they would not have to interact much with their fellow parishioners although not so late as for their arrival to be noted. Elizabeth realized she still had much to earn about navigating the intricacies of society. The crowd was a bit frightening for her but she got through by holding tightly to her husband's hand throughout the sermon. By the end of the service, she was feeling better than she had since the incident. They left as quickly as possible to avoid being drawn into conversations with their neighbours and hurried home.

"I have decided to forgive myself," she told Darcy later as they sat together in the library, "if you can forgive me."

He was confused. "For what could you possibly require my forgiveness, Love?"

"For losing -" Her voice broke and she took in a shaky breath as tears pooled in her eyes, "for losing your child."

"Oh, Lizzy, no." He pulled her onto his lap as she began to sob. He thought they had already established that the fault lay not with her, but with the fiend who had accosted her. He almost reminded her of this when he thought better of it. Anything he might say then was something she already knew so instead he rubbed her back in calming circles as she wailed against his shoulder.

Perhaps it was guilt over her miscarriage, perhaps it was pent up fear or anger or grief, but Elizabeth Darcy needed a catharsis. She found it, that Sabbath Day, crying in her husband's arms. She sobbed for what felt like an eternity, until her tears had run dry. Finally, coming back to awareness, she realized that Darcy was still stroking her back gently as he whispered soothing words of love into her ear. She took a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself and pulled back so that she could look him in the eye. "Thank you."

"There will be another babe, Love, I promise. You are so young; we are young and have plenty of time."

Suddenly her sadness turned to something else, and she pressed her lips against his, kissing him with desperation as she tugged at his cravat.

"Lizzy, no." He said gently as he pushed her hands aside. "It has not been a week, you are not yet healed."

"I want - I want you to love me."

"I do love you, Elizabeth, and my love is not conditional upon children or physical intimacy, both of which we will have when we are ready."

"I am ready."

"I would not endanger your health for anything. You cannot tell me that you feel no pain." The way she would not meet his eyes confirmed his suspicion. "The doctor said we ought to wait at least a month."

"A month?" She seemed genuinely appalled at the prospect.

Darcy smiled slightly. "We can consult another doctor once we reach Pemberley if you desire it."

"Tell me about Pemberley; about when you were a child there." She slid off his lap, suddenly conscious that although they were alone, they were not in their private rooms. She still remained quite close, wrapping her arms around his torso and laying her head upon his chest as he painted a picture with words of an idyllic place with trees and lakes and hills where he had frolicked as a child. Pride for his home suffused his voice and he left unsaid how much he looked forward to sharing the bounty with children of their own someday.

Elizabeth felt calm and, for the first time since she had been attacked, truly happy. She slept well again that night.

Monday was to be spent preparing for their departure to Pemberley. The doctor came and proclaimed Elizabeth's health to be adequate for the journey, although suggested that they might spend two nights on the road, rather than the usual one, so as not to overtax her during the recovery period.

Elizabeth was in the drawing room writing a letter to Georgiana, assuring the girl of her improved health without going into any sort of detail, while Darcy read the newspaper on a nearby chair. They were both surprised when a visitor was shown into the room.

"Lady Catherine DeBourgh," Sinclair announced just before a severe-looking woman strode into the room.

Darcy rose to greet the unexpected guest and Elizabeth was just setting down her pen when the lady's voice boomed forth. Despite the woman's obvious rank, she did not speak at all as a genteel woman ought.

"This must be the slattern who has taken my Anne's rightful place!"

Although she had been planning to rise and say hello, Elizabeth was shocked into silence. Her husband, on the other hand, became incensed.

"Aunt, what is the meaning of this rude intrusion?"

"You accuse me of rudeness, Fitzwilliam? You, who married this country nobody without a single word to your family? You are clearly ashamed of the connection and rightfully so. I will use my influence to help you have it rectified! It may not even be legally binding after all; Scotland!" She looked directly at her nephew, not sparing a single glance for the woman she continued to insult.

Darcy spoke through clenched teeth. "Nothing needs to be rectified, your Ladyship, Mrs. Darcy and I are quite content in our perfectly legal and binding marriage."

"Content! How can you be content in this travesty, this sham of a union? You married this fortune-hunter and kept it from your family for weeks, I might not even have known except that a friend in Bath showed me your announcement in The Times!"

"Lady Catherine," Darcy raised his voice slightly and took a step forward so that he could look down into his aunt's eyes, "your ire is misdirected, I took care to send word of my marriage to you at Rosings before the announcement was run in the paper. I had no knowledge that you might be elsewhere but imagined that, were it the case, your correspondence would be forwarded in a timely fashion." In other circumstances, he might have apologized for the misunderstanding, although it was truly not his fault, but the woman's words were cruel and unforgivably directed toward his already fragile wife.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I can hardly be bothered to see to such trivial things as letters when on holiday. Now, your behaviour toward me is unacceptable. I demand that you apologize. Also, that slut you call a wife has yet to greet me properly." She glared at Elizabeth, who was still sitting quietly at the desk, eyes fixed on her own clenched hands.

Darcy followed her gaze and saw his wife's lip quivering as she struggled to hold back tears. He knew that she still suffered from their loss and despite his many reassurances, felt as though she had disappointed him. The last thing he wished to deal with, at that moment, was an upset Elizabeth. The moisture forming in her eyes broke his heart and he set his jaw before firmly requesting that his aunt apologize. He wanted to demand it, shout and bellow as the older woman had been doing herself, but the manners that had been drilled into him his entire life did not allow him the words to do so even in such a situation as this. When she steadfastly refused, he called for Sinclair to escort the lady out; speaking calmly even as he hid his hands, trembling with anger.

Mr. Darcy chose that moment to enter the room, the raised voices had interrupted him in his study where he had been attending to his own correspondence. He had heard both his sister-in-law's final insult and his son's refusal to rise to the bait. He felt both distaste and pride at once.

"Ah, Darcy," Lady Catherine addressed the owner of the house without allowing him time to speak, "you must make your son see reason, he is disrespecting me to defend this little upstart." She gestured again at Elizabeth without even looking her way.

"Your Ladyship," Mr. Darcy responded, his tone civil but cold, "I am afraid that, like my son, I must ask you to leave." He showed no outward sign of anger but his word were crisply spoken and unmistakable.

"Leave? This was my sister's house, I am as good as mistress here!"

"As impolitic as it may be to contradict a lady, you are not. In fact, you have quite insulted the actual mistress of this house and, in having done so, have worn out your welcome here." He signalled to the butler, who took a step forward. "Until such a time as you are willing to apologize to Mrs. Darcy, you may consider this family not at home to your calls, neither here nor at Pemberley. Sinclair will see you out. Good day, Madam." Then, in a deliberate show of disdain, he turned his back to Lady Catherine as she was led from the room.

"Thank you, Sir." Elizabeth managed to whisper, still working to keep her tears at bay.

"Think nothing of it, Mrs. Darcy." He touched her shoulder gently, if awkwardly, in what was clearly meant to be a comforting manner. "You ought not to be subjected to such malevolence in your own home." He turned to his son. "Now, Fitzwilliam, I know that the two of you leave for Pemberley on the morrow and there is much to do in the meantime. Please, let me know if you require any further assistance." He bowed slightly and left the room before Elizabeth had decided whether to act upon her inclination to embrace him.

The moment Mr. Darcy was gone, her tears began to fall, now a combination of relief, anger and sadness. She was swept up in her husband's arms and they sat together in silence for a few minutes. Heartened by her father-in-law's show of support, Elizabeth's upset was of short duration, and soon she was able to finish her letter and return to her chamber to oversee the preparations for their removal to Pemberley.

The next morning, they had a leisurely breakfast before departing. Although the trip was usually undertaken in two long days, broken with one night at an inn, Darcy had decided to slow the pace enough to necessitate three stops before Pemberley, even more than the doctor had suggested.

Elizabeth protested that such a pace was excessively slow but, afraid for her comfort and health, her husband would not be moved on the issue. Consequently, their itinerary had plenty of room for long goodbyes, unnecessary at the Darcy home since the patriarch would be joining them soon, but much appreciated when they stopped at the Gardiner residence. Elizabeth could hardly let go of her aunt, so fiercely did they embrace. Promises were made to write and visit and eventually, the newly-weds were on their way to Pemberley.

The carriage moved slowly at Darcy's orders; Dr. Coulter had warned that too much jostling about could set back Elizabeth's recovery.

"I do not believe I have ever been on a voyage quite so unhurried." Elizabeth looked out the window as they left London then turned back to her husband. "Whatever shall we do for three entire days?"

Darcy moved across the coach so that he could place his arm around his wife. "We shall spend time together, just as we would at home."

"I must admit that I abhor the idea of being so cooped up in this manner."

"We can stop for walks whenever you like. We have enough time."

"That would not necessitate a fourth night on the road?" She asked in a teasing voice.

Darcy smiled and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head as he stroked her shoulder.

It was not long before Elizabeth fell asleep against him and he was not surprised. In fact, he was pleased to see her resting. The doctor had emphasized that her body would require time and rest to recover from such a trauma. By the time she awoke, it was nearly time to eat and they stopped at an inn to do so.

After their meal, they took a leisurely walk. The inn was not situated in a particularly beautiful countryside, but there was a tolerable wood nearby and a stroll through it proved both invigorating and soothing to the couple after sitting in one place for several hours.

They sat companionably together again, talking intermittently as the carriage moved until the light threatened to fade from the sky and they decided to stop for the evening, indulging in one more short walk before darkness began to fall.

As Darcy signed the inn register, he could not help but notice the suspicious look in the proprietor's eyes as they flitted over Elizabeth.

Ignoring the man's dubious gaze, he took his wife's arm and led her up the stairs to their chamber. He had, of course, engaged only one for the pair of them. Once there, he studied her in the light from the fire and still open window and saw that she was looking much younger than her seventeen years. She had lost weight and grown pale. It was no wonder that the man downstairs had wondered at their union and perhaps his treatment of her, she still had visible bruises on her arms as well. Those would have been visible had her shawl slipped at all. His heart broke at her appearance and he determined that his first priority must be to nurture her back to the full bloom of health. Even as he spoke to the maid, ordering dinner, he considered picnics at Pemberley, outdoor fencing matches, and sumptuous dinners; anything he could think of to make her happy and healthy. Elizabeth was puttering about the room when she noticed him staring.

"Is something wrong, Fitzwilliam?" Her hands flew to her hair then to her dress as if to assess the problem.

"Nothing at all, Lizzy."

"Then what is it that holds your attention so?"

"The woman I love, of course."

Elizabeth rewarded him with a kiss which he held her in place to prolong until a knock at the door announced the arrival of their meal.

After dinner, they shared a few games of chess in their rooms, Elizabeth showed marked improvement from the last time they had played at an inn. Her convalescence had certainly allowed her to significantly improve her understanding and their last match ended in a stalemate, which she considered quite an achievement against her accomplished husband.

Eventually, they settled down to sleep on the inn's bed. Despite knowing about his wife's physical limitations of the moment, Darcy could not help but become aroused as he recalled the first night they had spent together in an inn, also their first as husband and wife. He held her more tightly and buried his nose into Elizabeth's hair, smelling her sweet scent as he lost consciousness.

It took Elizabeth a while longer to find sleep, she could feel her husband's interest and regretted being unable to respond in a way that they would both like. She promised herself repeatedly that she would make up for her failing by providing him with many healthy children in the future. Eventually, she managed to drift off to sleep as well, dreaming of small, dark-haired children running through the halls of Pemberley.

The remaining days of travel went much like the first. Upon finally arriving at Pemberley, the young couple felt well-rested, if slightly stiff from the hours spent seated in the carriage. The staff was welcoming, and Mrs. Reynolds herself showed the pair to their suite of chambers which was located in the family wing although some distance away from Georgiana's chamber, Darcy was pleased to note.

The rooms had not been fully overhauled like those in London, but they were well-aired and the décor was adequately cheerful; although it was not quite modern, neither was it particularly out of date. Both bedchambers had been outfitted with new linens and one contained all the personal effects that had previously been in Darcy's childhood room. His dressing room was full as well, it appeared his entire wardrobe had been moved. Elizabeth was surprised to find her own not empty either. Several gowns hung there unworn; gowns she had never seen before, but was sure were hers. The size seemed correct and the styles were reminiscent of those she had selected on her shopping trip with Lady Matlock. She could think of no plausible explanation but that the countess had taken it upon herself to expand her order. She marvelled at the expense and wondered who had borne it.

Dinner that night was especially elegant, the staff had certainly been given plenty of warning to expect the young master and his new bride this time and the table reflected that. After the meal, Elizabeth was presented to the staff as their new mistress and although she tried to take note of all their names, there were too many to remember and she knew she would have a daunting task before her in learning how to preside over a home so much larger than Longbourn. She hoped that Mrs. Reynolds was, in fact, just as wonderful as her husband insisted. The housekeeper's help would go a long way toward keeping Pemberley running smoothly.


End file.
